China Miéville Quotes

China Miéville Quotes

Part of the appeal of the fantastic is taking ridiculous ideas very seriously and pretending they're not absurd.

The dead are way more organized than the living.

Scars are not injuries, Tanner Sack. A scar is a healing. After injury, a scar is what makes you whole.

I think it's important to remember that writers do not have a monopoly of wisdom on their books. They can be wrong about their own books, they can often learn about their own books

Sometimes translation stops you understanding.

In time, in time they tell me, I'll not feel so bad. I don't want time to heal me. There's a reason I'm like this.
I want time to set me ugly and knotted with loss of you, marking me. I won't smooth you away.
I can't say goodbye.

Books are always obviously having conversations with other books, and some times they're amiable and sometimes not.

Vessels knocked together for hour upon hour, like bones, like someone infinitely stupid and patient at the door of an empty house.

If the techs are on it we're fine, but Briamiv and his buddy could fuck up a full stop at the end of a sentence.

Any moment called now is always full of possibles.

The summer stretched out the daylight as if on a rack. Each moment was drawn out until its anatomy collapsed. Time broke down. The day progressed in an endless sequence of dead moments.

Shadows fell on them like predators as the light went out.

For the Right, strikes are both devilish and pathetic, have both terrible and absolutely no effects.

Loads of children read books about dinosaurs, underwater monsters, dragons, witches, aliens, and robots. Essentially, the people who read SF, fantasy and horror haven't grown out of enjoying the strange and weird.

Saul was going to kill Anansi.
They both knew it. Saul was going to kill Anansi and Loplop and King Rat, and Saul was going to die, all in an effort to prove that he was not his rat-father's son.

If you're brave enough to try, you might be able to catch a train from UnLondon to Parisn't, or No York, or Helsunki, or Lost Angeles, or Sans Francisco, or Hong Gone, or Romeless.

There's something intrinsically radical about the fantastic aesthetic - starting from the premise that the impossible is true, attempting to undermine expectations.

Art is something you choose to make... it's a bringing together of... of everything around you into something that makes you more human, more khepri, whatever. More of a person.

History seemed meaningless here, or at least bewildered.

Humans like nothing more than to pigeonhole the events & phenomena that punctuate their lives.

Into sleep's benthos and deeper. A slander that the deepest parts are lightless. There are moments of phosphor with animal movement. Somatic glimmers, and in the trench of sleep those lights were tiny dreams.

I just can't get with this idea that literature is a 12-step program. If someone wants to read a book to see good people get rewarded and the bad people get punished, essentially what they want is a fairy tale.

Just thugs only ever got so far. The best thugs were all psychologists.

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