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“So tell me, giant philosopher, why we're not dukes," the Gray Mouser demanded, unrolling a forefinger from the fist on his knee so that it pointed across the brazier at Fafhrd. "Or emperors, for that matter, or demigods."

"We are not dukes because we're no man's man," Fafhrd replied smugly, settling his shoulders against the stone horse-trough. "Even a duke must butter up a king, and demigods the gods. We butter no one. We go our own way, choosing our own adventure—and our own follies! Better freedom and a chilly road than a warm hearth and servitude."

"There speaks the hound turned out by his last master and not yet found new boots to slaver on," the Mouser retorted with comradely sardonic impudence. "Look you, you noble liar, we've labored for a dozen lords and kings and merchants fat. You've served Movarl across the Inner Sea. I've served the bandit Harsel. We've both served this Glipkerio, whose girl is tied to Ilthmar this same night."

"Those are exception," Fafhrd protested grandly. "And even when we serve, we make the rules. We bow to no man's ultimate command, dance to no wizard's drumming, join no mob, hark to no wildering hate-call. When we draw sword, it's for ourselves alone.”
― Fritz Leiber, Swords in the Mist

“[The Soviet State Security Service] is more than a secret police organization, more than an intelligence and counter-intelligence organization. It is an instrument for subversion, manipulation and violence, for secret intervention in the affairs of other countries.”
― Allen W. Dulles, Craft of Intelligence: America's Legendary Spy Master On The Fundamentals Of Intelligence Gathering For A Free World

“Want to know something funny? Even people capable of living in the past don't really know what the future holds.”
― Stephen King, 11/22/63

“In the name of the greatest people that have ever trod this earth, I draw the line in the dust and toss the gauntlet before the feet of tyranny, and I say segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.”
― George C. Wallace

“It's 1963: we're in the year of prophetic fulfillment. The last revival meeting is at hand, where the sons took up the cross of the fathers. White sons went forth to the dirt roads of Georgia and Alabama to prove to their fathers that the melting pot could still melt. "Negro" sons went forth to the Woolworths and Grants and Greyhounds of America to prove to their fathers that they could eat and sit and ride as well in the front as in the back, as well seated as standing.”
― Kathleen Collins, Whatever Happened to Interracial Love?

“На земјата ѝ е гајле дали ние ќе ја сакаме или ќе ја пцуеме. Таа ни се издра, нѐ смачка и нѐ погреба живи. Дали скопјани ќе останат овде или не, тоа е наш, а не нејзин проблем.

Земјата само мрзливо ќе си ги мрда своите плешки, својата одвратна утроба со недели, сѐ додека не ѝ стане удобно. Потоа пак ќе нѐ пушти да правиме што сакаме. И нема да ѝ биде жал. И арогантно ќе нѐ чека сите да завршиме во неа.”
― SIBO, Зелениот дворец

“This journey I know will lead somewhere, but where?”
― Gordon Roddick