187 Quotes by Jack Vance

It occurs to me that the man and his religion are one and the same thing. The unknown exists. Each man projects on the blankness the shape of his own particular world-view. He endows his creation with his personal volitions and attitudes. The religious man stating his case is in essence explaining himself. When a fanatic is contradicted he feels a threat to his own existence; he reacts violently.

If there were no fools,' said Circumbright, 'either among us or among them, we could co-inhabit the earth. there's the flaw in any compromise negotiation - the fact of fools, both among the Teleks and the common men.

Like any craft, writing is mastered by practice and patience, and if one has any “knack” for it at all, that very knack—paradoxically—can explicate everything under the sun but itself.

Shimrod gave the boy a copper penny. 'Bring me now a goblet of good tawny wine.'By a sleight of magic Shimrod augmented the acuity of his hearing, so that the whispers of two young lovers in a far corner were now clearly audible, as were the innkeeper's instructions to Fonsel in regard to the watering of Shimrod's wine.

Nothing is more conspicuous than a farting princess.

As soon as the police slip out from under the firm thumb of a suspicious local tribune, they become arbitrary, merciless, a law unto themselves. They think no more of justice, but only of establishing themselves as a privileged and envied elite. They mistake the attitude of natural caution and uncertainty of the civilian populace as admiration and respect, and presently start to swagger back and forth, jingling their weapons in megalomaniacal euphoria.

Where was his knife, upon which he relied? He had cut cheese for their noonday meal, and had packed the knife away with the cheese.Aillas said: 'Sir, before we continue with this matter, may I offer you a bite of cheese?''I care for no cheese, though it is an amusing concept.''In that case, allow me a moment while I cut a morsel or two for myself, as I hunger.''I have no time to spare while you eat cheese; prepare instead for death.

If I adhere to any fundamental principle in my writing, perhaps it is my belief that the function of fiction is essentially to amuse or entertain the reader. The mark of good writing, in my opinion, is that the reader is not aware that the story has been written; as he reads, the ideas and images flow into his mind as if he were living them. The utmost accolade a writer can receive is that the reader is incognizant of his presence.

First coming aboard, a new arrival makes a cautious survey of the crew, trying to winnow the affable and good-natured from the surly and truculent. Some of the crewmen will seem easygoing, happy-go-lucky, good-fellows-all; others may appear to be reserved or even aloof. Yet I found that at the end of a voyage these aloof ones were often the persons whom I grew to like and respect the most, while those who seemed so agreeable turned out to be rascals.