Harry Turtledove

Yes, I know I haven’t told you anything. No offense, Sis, but you like running people’s lives so much, you don’t like it when they try and run their own.

They wouldn’t understand no matter what, any more than they would understand what life in the trenches was like. Experience brought understanding. Nothing else came close.

He spent years alternately chasing her and trying—always without much luck—to get her out of his mind. Now that he’d finally got her, finally found out just how much woman she was, losing her was the last thing he wanted. But two had to say yes. One was plenty for no.

That held enough truth to be provocative, not enough to be useful.

A man who couldn’t see truth when it tried to shoot him wouldn’t live long, and didn’t deserve to.

She looked so angelic, any real angel who saw her would have been extremely suspicious.

He hated parliamentary procedure, but he’d started learning it anyhow, even if he did think it was only a way to cheat by the numbers.

“I don’t hide anything I aim to do; I just come right out and say it.” An alarm whistle went off in Anne’s head; any man who said something like that was almost bound to be lying.

She knew the sea too well ever to trust it.

What people believe and what they’ll do because they believe it is a big part of what’s real, especially in politics.

Falling asleep in a corset was impressive proof of what exhaustion could do.

There’s no such thing as glory, near as I can tell. If the machine guns didn’t kill it, the artillery did.