Taraka screamed as Siddhartha rode toward him upon a white horse, the air crackling and smelling of ozone… — Roger Zelazny
Taraka screamed as Siddhartha rode toward him upon a white horse, the air crackling and smelling of ozone:
"No, Binder! Hold your power! My death belongs to Yama . . ."
"Oh foolish demon!" said Sam. "It need not have been..."
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More from this book
I do not have the time to give you more than my contempt.
p. 181
I shall return to being a man, and I shall let the people keep the Buddha who is in their hearts. Whatever the source, the message was pure, believe me. That is the only reason it took root and grew.
"I decided that mankind could live better without gods. If I disposed of them all, people could start having can openers and cans to open again, and things like that, without fearing the wrath of Heaven. We've stepped on these poor fools enough. I wanted to give them a chance to be free, to build what they wanted."
"But they live, and they live and they live."
"Sometimes, and sometimes not. So do the gods."
"You were about the last Accelerationist left in the world, Sam. No one would have thought you were also the deadliest."
