Robert Sheckley Quotes

Linguistic accommodation as well. Are they speaking my language or am I speaking theirs? I can never know: the transaction cannot watch itself being transacted.

And do not think," Manisfree said, "that we absolve ourselves from blame in this situation. Although we teachers purport to know more than other men, we have usually chosen to remain aloof from public life. Practical, hardheaded men of the world have always frightened us; and those men, in their hardheaded way, have brought us to this." "Nor is aloofness our only failure," said Hanley of Anthropology. "Let me point out that we have taught—badly! Our few promising students became teachers, thus insulating themselves as we had. The rest of our students sat through the sleep-provoking drone of our lectures, eager only to depart and take their places in a mad world. We did not touch them, Joenes, we did not move them, and we did not teach them to think." "In fact," said Blake of Physics, "we did quite the contrary. We managed to equip most of our students with a definite hatred of thinking. They learned to view culture with the greatest suspicion, to ignore ethics, and to consider the sciences solely as a means of making money. This was our responsibility and our failure. The outcome of that failure is the world.

Your predator is close behind you and will infallibly be your death." "I don't doubt it," Carmody said, in a moment of strange calm." But in terms of long-range planning, I never did expect to get out of this Universe alive." "That is meaningless," the Prize said. "The fact is, you have lost everything." "I don't agree," Carmody said. "Permit me to point out that I am presently still alive." "Agreed. But only for the moment." "I have always been alive only for the moment," Carmody said. "I could never count on more. It was my error to expect more. That holds true, I believe, for all of my possible and potential circumstances." "Then what do you hope to achieve with your moment?" "Nothing," Carmody said. "Everything." "I don't understand you any longer," the Prize said. "Something about you has changed, Carmody. What is it?" "A minor thing," Carmody told him. "I have simply given up a longevity which I never possessed anyhow. I have turned away from the con game which the Gods run in their heavenly sideshow. I no longer care under which shell the pea of immortality might be found. I don't need it. I have my moment, which is quite enough." "Saint Carmody," the Prize said, in tones of deepest sarcasm. "No more than a shadow's breadth separates you and death! What will you do now with your pitiable moment?" "I shall continue to live it," Carmody said. "That is what moments are for.

Do you have any papers for Will Barrent?" "None," the lawyer said. "His case is in different hands. I'm afraid it might not be completely processed until after the Games are over." "But I'll probably be dead then," Barrent said. "That, I can assure you, won't stop the papers from being properly served," the fat lawyer said proudly. "Dead or alive, you will retain all your rights.

The trip to South Lake took another three hours. Blackwell stared out the window the whole time looking at nothing, which is to say, New Jersey.

We of the Hunt are part of the solution. We offer voluntary murder as a substitute for war. You know that mankind will never be satisfied unless it is killing something. People can’t even properly enjoy a landscape unless there’s something moving across it that can be shot at.

Carmody’s jaw stiffened and he withdrew his hand. He had been pushed around long enough. Now, for the sake of his own self-esteem, he would not yield any more.

He had poured too much gilt on the lily; in striving to create a paragon, he had only succeeded in producing a paradox.

I'm proposing to pay you five thousand dollars to do something you'll find quite enjoyable." "Make it ten," Foote said, "and I'll enjoy it even more.

Blaine remembered how strange, dark, atavistic and noble Hull’s lordly selection of death has seemed. Pretentious, of course; but then, life itself was a pretension in the vast universe of unliving matter.

As a matter of fact, I am amazed at what has happened to science fiction in recent years. It has become a heavy academic field. And science fiction writers are being accorded a respect now, which I, as one of their peers and well-wishers, can only view with alarm and suspicion.
It seems like only yesterday, though it was in fact some 20 years ago, that all of us were writing pulp-action stories about a nebulous and ill-defined region that we called the future. Now our yarns are analysed in university classrooms for virtues we never suspected that they had. This is particularly true in America, the country that coined the word ‘overkill’ and then demonstrated its practical applications.

It was one hell of an inspection when you went around finding how many sane men you had left.

Man is the only animal whose fear of embarrassment can overcome his instinct for self-preservation.

But the description is not the described, as Amirra Tauba remarked as he chewed up the map of the galaxy!

I think he suspected I was lying; but it was the sort of large-scale, flamboyant lie that appealed to him. As he told me later, only pettiness annoyed him. He delighted in color and movement, and in the protean appearance of things. In this respect, he told me, he was a true Venetian. Like many other subjects of the Serenissima, he believed in style over content, art over life, appearance over reality, and form over substance. He believed simultaneously in fate and free will. He viewed life as a sort of Renaissance melodrama, complete with unexpected appearances and disappearances, heartrending confrontations, preposterous coincidences, disguises and doubles, switched twins and mysteries of birth; all revolving around an obscure and melancholy point of honor. And, of course, he was perfectly right.