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He makes me feel like that. Like flying.
Scott Westerfeld
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Scott Westerfeld
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: May 5
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Dallas
Texas
Scott David Westerfeld
Feels
Like
Flying
Makes
Feel
More quotes by Scott Westerfeld
We needed to become world-famous soon, while there was still that kind of world to be famous in.
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Gravity was something you could beat all it took was hydrogen, hot air, or even a bit of rope. But being a girl was a miserable, never-ending struggle.
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Left alone, human beings are a plague. They multiply relentlessly, consuming every resource, destroying everything they touch.
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She couldn't disappoint the whole village. There were no wallscreens here, no newsfeeds or satellites bands, and touring soccer teams were no doubt few and far between. (...), that made stories a valuable commodity, and it probably wasn't very often that a stranger dropped in from the sky.
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Sooner or later usually means too late
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That was the whole point of being special: You existed to make sure everyone else behaved, but that didn't mean YOU had to.
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Irony is always the best weapon against fascism.
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It's just the way things are. she shrugged. It's no one's fault. Or everyone's.
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Typographical laziness was slowly destroying our culture, according to Lexa and her pals. Inexactitude was death.
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Perhaps it's worth saying again: One reader's discomfort should never stand in the way of another reader's survival.
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So, there was this beautiful princess. She was locked in a high tower(...)She was stuck up there(...)So the only thing was to jump.
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But you weren't born expecting that kind of beauty in everyone, all the time. You just got programmed into thinking anything else is ugly.
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I guess sometimes you have to lie to find the truth.
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And here in America rival newspapermen attack each other on sight?
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Maybe she still was a pretty-head, making up irrational stories about the empty forest. The longer she stayed alone out here, the more Tally understood why the Rusties and their predecessors had believed in invisible beings, praying to placate spirits as they trashed the natural world around them.
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Surely no one would ever use such a weapon against a city. There are no limits in war, Volger said, still staring out the window.
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Perhaps Clankers and Darwinists would always be at war, if only in their hearts.
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Money's the same, whoever gives it to you. That was the point of money, after all: crisp and clean or wrinkled or disintegrated into quarters - a dollar was always worth a hundred cents.
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so pRetty i hAd to Eat hiM
Scott Westerfeld
That Shay was in possesion of hand grenades was a comforting thought showed what kind of night this had become.
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