There is a sad disconnectedness that overcomes a library when its owner is gone. — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
For me, writing is more a process of discovering the book than planning it. — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
One of the best things about writing is how it redeems, not to mention recycles, all of one's prior experiences, including or… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
From fried witchetty grubs to gold-plated turnips, when you're a writer you never know what's going to appear on your plate next.… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
I've described my usual writing process as scrambling from peak to peak on inspiration through foggy valleys of despised logic. Inspiration is… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
Never do yourself, what you can con professionals into doing for you. — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
“It reminded him of that definition of his father's. A weapon is a device for making your enemy change his mind. The mind was… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
“I was imagining the most bizarre things befalling you.” “Did they include a six-hundred-pound ice bear and a pirate poet?” “No…” “Then they weren’t… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
There is a sad disconnectedness that overcomes a library when its owner is gone. — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
“No, amusing me only, I wonder if they realize how they are used?" "Not a bit. They think they are the emperors of creation."… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
“You bastards are on the top of Imperial Lord Auditor Miles Vorkosigan's very own shit list now, you bet. But under what name? Only… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
“Anyway, if the Cetagandans really wanted to assassinate you, they'd hardly do it here. They'd slip something subtle under your skin that wouldn't go… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
Endure pain, find joy, and make your own meaning, because the universe certainly isn't going to supply it. — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
Your Reverence, I do not hate any man in this world enough to inflict the results of my prayers upon him. — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
“I always thought my parents could fix anything. Now it's my turn. Dear God, how did this happen?” — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
“I think it is not so much the growth of virtue, as simply the replacement of prior vices with an addiction to one’s god.”… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
“Mark’s ideas tended to the bland, and there was no point in asking Miles, whose embittered suggestions all ran to things like Vomit Vanilla… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
The dead cannot cry out for justice. It is a duty of the living to do so for them. — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
“Gardens were meant to be seen, smelled, walked through, grubbed in. A hundred objective measurements didn't sum the worth of a garden; only the… — Lois McMaster Bujold Copy Share Image
