Roger Zelazny Quotes

"It was an assassination attempt, wasn't it?"
"Who knows? Yesterday's politics are not worth the paper wasted on its promises, its threats."

Sleep is perhaps the only among life's great pleasures which need not be of short duration.

I have many names, and none of them matter. Names are not important. To speak is to name names, but to speak is not important. A thing happens once that has never happened before. Seeing it, a man looks upon reality. He cannot tell others what he has seen. Others wish to know, however, so the question him saying, 'What is it like, this thing you have seen?' So he tries to tell them. Perhaps he has seen the very first fire in the world. He tells them, 'It is red, like a poppy, but through it dance other colors. It has no form, like water, flowing everywhere. It is warm, like the sun of summer, only warmer. It exists for a time upon a piece of wood, and then the wood is gone, as though it were eaten, leaving behind that which is black and can be sifted like sand. When the wood is gone, it too is gone.' Therefore, the hearers must think reality is like a poppy, like water, like the sun, like that which eats and excretes. They think it is like to anything that they are told it is like by the man who has known it. But they have not looked upon fire. They cannot really know it. They can only know of it. But fire comes again into the world, many times. More men look upon fire. After a time, fire is as common as grass and clouds and the air they breathe. They see that, while it is like a poppy, it is not a poppy, while it is like water, it is not water, while it is like the sun, it is not the sun, and while it is like that which eats and passes wastes, it is not that which eats and passes wastes, but something different from each of these apart or all of these together. So they look upon this new thing and they make a new word to call it. They call it 'fire.'
If they come upon one who still has not seen it and they speak to him of fire, he does not know what they mean. So they, in turn, fall back upon telling him what fire is like. As they do so, they know from their own experience that what they are telling him is not the truth, but only part of it. They know that this man

Ali čovek zaboravlja stvarnost i pamti samo reci. Što je reči više upamtio, to ga pametnijim smatrajunjegovi drugovi. On gleda velike transformacije sveta, ali ih ne vidi onako kako su bile sagledane od prvog čoveka koji se suočio sa stvarnošću.

Radije tražite to Bezimeno u sebi, to što nadolazi dok mu se obraćam. Ono ne opaža moje reči, već realnost u meni, čiji je deo. To je atman, koji čuje mene, a ne moje reči. Sve ostalo je nestvarno. Definisati znači izgubiti. Bezimeno je suština svih stvari. Bezimeno je nesaznatljivo, moćnije čak i od samog Brame. Stvari prolaze, ali suština ostaje.

Snovi bivstva su san u formama. Forme prolaze, nestaju, ali bivstvo ostaje; i sanja nove snove. Čovek tim snovima daje imena i zamišlja da je uhvatio bivstvo samo, a ne zna da samo priziva privide.

PONEKAD, MOŽDA, POJAVI SE SANJAR KOJI JE SVESTAN DA SANJA. ON MOŽDA KONTROLIŠE DELIĆ SUPSTANCE SNA, U STANJU JE DA TOM SUPSTANCOM RASPOLAŽE PO SVOJOJ VOLJI, ILI MOŽDA USPEVA DA SE PONEKAD DELIMIČNO PROBUDI, DOSPEVAJUĆI TAKO DO POVEĆANE SAMOSPOZNAJE. AKO IZABERE PUT SAMOSPOZNAJE, NJEGOVA SLAVA ĆE BITI VELIKA, KROZ SVE VEKOVE ON ĆE SIJATI KAO ZVEZDA. ALI AKO SE, MEĐUTIM, OPREDELI ZA STAZU TANTRI, GDE SE SPAJAJU SAMSARA I NIRVANA, GDE SE SVET SHVATA ALI SE ISTOVREMENO U NJEMU ŽIVI, ON ĆE BITI JEDAN OD MOĆNIH MEĐU SANJARIMA. MOĆ SVOJU ON MOŽE UPOTREBITI ZA ZLO ILI ZA DOBRO.

Živeti u Samsari, međutim, znači biti podložan uticaju moćnih sanjara. Ako oni moć koriste za dobro, nastaju zlatna vremena. Ako je koriste za zlo, nastaju mračna vremena. San se može preobraziti u košmar.

Čovek mora prvo da odradi opterećenja svoje karme, svog mesa, tela, pre nego što dostigne prosvetljenje.

U svetlosti večnih istina, kažu mudraci, patnja je kao ništa; u terminima Samsare, kažu mudraci, ona vodi dobru.

Bezimeno, čiji smo deo svi mi, sanja formu. Koji je najviši atribut ijednoj formi dostupan? Lepota. Bezimeno je, dakle, umetnik. Problem, dakle, nije u oblasti dileme dobro - zlo, nego u estetskoj

After signing it, he added the postscript: By the time you read this, you will already be dead.

“Buy into a rising market,” had always been his philosophy, not to mention his religion, sex, politics, and aesthetics.

I loved him like a brother - which is to say, not at all.

I would never rest until I held vengeance and the throne within my hand, and good night sweet prince to anybody who stood between me and these things.

Her thirtieth birthday, like a huge black cloud, filled an April but four months distant.

People haven’t changed. They are as rational—and irrational—as they were in the old days. They are as moral and law-abiding—and not—as ever. Many new things have been learned, many new situations evolved, but I do not believe that the nature of man has altered significantly in the time you’ve slept. Nothing you do is going to change that. You may be able to alter a few features of the times, but would it really be proper to meddle? Everything is so interdependent today that even you would not be able to predict all the consequences of any actions you take. You might do more harm than good; and whatever you do, man’s nature will remain the same.

In a world of physical ease, brutal social equality, and reasonable economic equality, exclusiveness in frivolity becomes the most sought-after of all distinctions.

Freedom of expression must also bow to the necessity for clear communication, as many of science fiction’s failed experiments of the sixties demonstrate.

"Everything that's miserable in the world," Nick the dwarf once said to me, "is because of beauty."
"Not truth or goodness?" I'd asked.
"Oh, they help. But beauty is the culprit, the real principle of evil."
"Not wealth?"
"Money is beautiful."

True epics of course are few and historically well spaced, but that slightly more mundane ingredient, the speculative impulse, be it of Classic, Christian or Renaissance shading, which ornamented Western literature with romances, fables, exotic voyages and utopias, seemed to me basically the same turn of fancy exercised today in science fiction, working then with the only objects available to it. It took the Enlightenment, it took science, it took the industrial revolution to provide new sources of idea that, pushed, poked, inverted and rotated through higher spaces, resulted in science fiction. When the biggest, the most interesting ideas began emerging from science, rather than from theology or the exploration of new lands, hindsight makes it seem logical that something like science fiction had to be delivered.

Besides, I like libraries. It makes me feel comfortable and secure to have walls of words, beautiful and wise, all around me.