Frank Herbert, formally Franklin Patrick Herbert, Jr.

Frank
Herbert, formally Franklin Patrick Herbert, Jr.
1920
1986

American Science Fiction Writer, most notably the "Dune" series

Author Quotes

There's hope left in these dusty chords. There's a song left in our rusty hearts. We are torn and frayed but love remains.

This is the awe-inspiring universe of magic: There are no atoms, only waves and motions all around. Here, you discard all belief in barriers to understanding. You put aside understanding itself. This universe cannot be seen, cannot be heard, cannot be detected in any way by fixed perceptions. It is the ultimate void where no preordained screens occur upon which forms may be projected. You have only one awareness here the screen of the magi: Imagination Here, you learn what it is to be human. You are a creator of order, of beautiful shapes and systems, an organizer of chaos.

To know the future absolutely is to be trapped into that future absolutely. It collapses time. Present becomes future. I require more freedom than that.

That is one of the Law's purposes, of course: to test the qualities of those who choose to employ it.

The failure of civilization can be detected by the gap between public and private morality. The wider the gap, the nearer the civilization to final dissolution

The mind of the believer stagnates. It fails to grow outward into an unlimited, infinite universe.

The power to destroy a thing is the absolute control over it.

The trouble with peace is that it tends to punish mistakes instead of rewarding brilliance.

Then, as his planet killed him, it occurred to Kynes that his father and all the other scientists were wrong, that the most persistent principles of the universe were accident and error.

There is probably no more terrible enlightenment than the one in which you discover your father is a man--with human flesh.

There's no secret to balance. You just have to feel the waves.

This is the fallacy of power: ultimately it is effective only in an absolute, a limited universe. But the basic lesson of our relativistic universe is that things change. Any power must always meet a greater power.

To ones not yet dead.

That is the beginning of knowledge--the discovery of something we do not understand.

The flesh is passed. Eternity retracts what is hers. For a brief moment, our bodies are splashing water danced intoxicated by love of life and to ourselves, play with some fantastic ideas are finally subjected heads under the ax of time. How can we call it? I happened. I do not exist ... but I've happened.

The mistakes (of leaders) are amplified by the numbers who follow them without question. Charismatic leaders tend to build up followings, power structures and these power structures tend to be taken over by people who are corruptible. I don't think that the old saw about 'power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely' is accurate: I think power attracts the corruptible.

The price we paid was the price men have always paid for achieving a paradise in this life – we went soft, we lost our edge.

The true warrior often understands his enemy better than he understands his friends. A dangerous pitfall if you let understanding lead to sympathy as it will naturally do when left unguided.

There are illusions of popular history which a successful religion must promote: Evil men never prosper; only the brave deserve the fair; honesty is the best policy; actions speak louder than words; virtue always triumphs; a good deed is its own reward; any bad human can be reformed; religious talismans protect one from demon possession; only females understand the ancient mysteries; the rich are doomed to unhappiness.

There should be a science of discontent. People need hard times to develop psychic muscles.

These are illusions of popular history which a successful religion must promote: Evil men never prosper; only the brave deserve the fair; honesty is the best policy; actions speak louder than words; virtue always triumphs; a good deed is its own reward; any bad human can be reformed; religious talismans protect one from demon possession; only females understand the ancient mysteries; the rich are doomed to unhappiness.

This myth he'd made out of intricate movements and imagination, out of moonlight and love, out of prayers older than Adam, and gray cliffs and crimson shadows, laments and rivers of martyrs - what had it come to at last? When the waves receded, the shores of Time would spread out there clean, empty, shining with infinite grains of memory and little else.

To see eternity was to be exposed to eternity's whims, oppressed by endless dimensions.

The abyss remains. It is pregnant with all the things yet to be. Ah, what gentle violence!

The flesh surrenders itself, he thought. Eternity takes back its own. Our bodies stirred these waters briefly, danced with a certain intoxication before the love of life and self, dealt with a few strange ideas, then submitted to the instruments of Time. What can we say of this? I occurred. I am not… yet, I occurred.

Author Picture
First Name
Frank
Last Name
Herbert, formally Franklin Patrick Herbert, Jr.
Birth Date
1920
Death Date
1986
Bio

American Science Fiction Writer, most notably the "Dune" series