Vorkosigan Quotes & Sayings

I do think, half of what we call madness is just some poor slob dealing with pain by a strategy that annoys the people around him. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Are you sure this isn't instant boots? asked Cordelia sadly, for in color, taste, and smell they closely resembled pulverized shoe leather pressed into wafers. — Lois McMaster Bujold

One step at a time," Vorkosigan returned grimly, "I can walk around the world. Watch me. — Lois McMaster Bujold

This is important! But you have to stay absolutely cool. I may be completely off-base, and panicking prematurely."
"I don't think so. I think you're panicking post-maturely. In fact, if you were panicking any later it would be practically posthumously. I've been panicking for days. — Lois McMaster Bujold

As the week wore on, Ivan contemplated the merits of inertia as a problem-solving technique with growing favor — Lois McMaster Bujold

Apologizing to me again, thought Miles miserably. For me. He keeps telling me I'm all right - and then apologizing. Inconsistent, Father.He shuffled back and forth across the room again, and his pain burst into speech. He flung his words against the deaf door, "I'll make you take back that apology! I am all right, damn it! I'll make you see it. I'll stuff you so full of pride in me there'll be no room left for your precious guilt! I swear by my word as Vorkosigan. I swear it, Father," his voice fell to a whisper, "Grandfather. Somehow, I don't know how . . . — Lois McMaster Bujold

But gifts can be victories, can't they. It's what you said. The garden could have been your gift, a dowry of talent, skill, and vision. I know it's too late now, but I just wanted to say, it would have been a victory most worthy of our House. Yours to command, Miles Vorkosigan. Ekaterin rested her forehead in her hand and closed her eyes. She regained control of her breathing again in a few gulps. She sat up again, and reread the letter in the fading light. Twice. It neither demanded nor requested nor seemed to anticipate reply. Good, because she doubted she could string two coherent clauses together just now. What did he expect her to make of this? Every sentence that didn't start with I seemed to begin with But. It wasn't just honest, it was naked. With — Lois McMaster Bujold

Miles was ... the thing is, he was afflicted with a severe birth injury. He grew up pretty much crippled, so he poured all his frustrated energy into his intellect. Since the Vorkosigan family motto might as well be, Anything worth achieving is worth overachieving, the effect was pretty frightening. And it worked for him, so he did it some more. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Real destiny takes everything - the last drop of blood, and strip out your veins to be sure - and gives it back doubled. Quadrupled. A thousand-fold! But you can't give halves. You have to give it all. I know. I swear. I've come back from the dead to speak the truth to you. Real destiny gives you a mountain of life, and puts you on top of it. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Welcome to Barrayar, son. Here you go: have a world of wealth and poverty, wrenching change and rooted history. Have a birth; have two. Have a name. Miles means "soldier," but don't let the power of suggestion overwhelm you. Have a twisted form in a society that loathes and fears the mutations that have been its deepest agony. Have a title, wealth, power, and all the hatred and envy they will draw. Have your body ripped apart and re-arranged. Inherit an array of friends and enemies you never made. Have a grandfather from hell. Endure pain, find joy, and make your own meaning, because the universe certainly isn't going to supply it. Always be a moving target. Live. Live. Live. — Lois McMaster Bujold

There will be grace and forgiveness enough, old dog, even for you. I pray you will spare me a drink from that cup, when it overflows for you.
- Miles Vorkosigan — Lois McMaster Bujold

In my experience, milady, we can never get back to exactly where we started, no matter how hard we try. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Miles is ... Miles; close to a force of nature, climbing up out of his own pages and escaping subordination to any opinion of mine. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Cordelia's stomach tightened. "Radnov and Darobey, by chance?" Stuben stared. "How did you know?" "Go on, just go on." "They were the ringleaders of a conspiracy to unseat that homicidal maniac Vorkosigan. Vorkosigan was after them, so they were glad to see us." "I'll bet. Just like manna from heaven." "A Barrayaran patrol shuttled down after them. We set up an ambush - stunned them all, except for one Radnov shot with a nerve disruptor. Those guys really play for keeps. — Lois McMaster Bujold

I thought you saw meaning in that sort of thing," said Vorkosigan.
"In the abstract. Most days it's just stumbling around in the dark with the rest of creation, smashing into things and wondering why it hurts. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Do you remember," Ivan sighed, "that time in the back garden at Vorkosigan House, when you'd been reading all those military histories about the Cetagandan prison camps during the invasion, and you decided we had to dig an escape tunnel? Except it was you who did all the designing, and me and Elena who did all the digging? — Lois McMaster Bujold

You will," said Vorkosigan wearily, "sit in that fortified palace that half the engineers are going to be tied up constructing, and party in it, and let your men do your dying for you, until you've bought your ground by the sheer weight of the corpses piled on it, because that's the kind of soldiering your mentor has taught you. And then send bulletins home about your great victory. Maybe you can have the casualty lists declared top secret." "Aral, careful," warned Vorhalas, shocked. — Lois McMaster Bujold

People give themselves to you, in their talking, and in other ways, if you are quiet and patient and let them, and not in such a damned rush to give yourself to them you go bat-blind and deaf. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Although upon reflection, Jole wasn't sure of the advisability of introducing a keen young officer to Vorkosigan notions of initiative. Metaphors about fighting fire with gasoline rose to his mind. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Sorry, Bill. I just have this awful vision of being p-peeled like an onion, looking for the seeds."
He grinned. "Onions don't have seeds, Cordelia."
"I stand corrected," she said dryly. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Hunting hawks did not belong in cages, no matter how much a man coveted their grace, no matter how golden the bars. They were far more beautiful soaring free. Heartbreakingly beautiful. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Yes," Vorkosigan agreed, "I could take over the universe with this army if I could ever get all their weapons pointed in the same direction. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Reputation is what other people know about you. Honor is what you know about yourself. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Modern warfare wasn't supposed to have this much blood in it. The weapons were supposed to cook everyone neatly, like eggs in their shells. (Mark Vorkosigan's first experience with warfare, on seeing Miles Vorkosigan splattered before him) — Lois McMaster Bujold

Miles clutched Quinn's elbow. "Don't Panic."
"I'm not panicking," Quinn observed, "I'm watching you panic. It's more entertaining . — Lois McMaster Bujold

Women shouldn't be in combat," said Vorkosigan, grimly glum. "Neither should men, in my opinion. — Lois McMaster Bujold

How does a kidnapping grab you?" She giggled inexplicably. "Absolutely not!" "Oh, you're going to make an exception in this case," she predicted with confidence, even verve. "Elli . . ." he growled in warning. She controlled her humor with a deep breath, though her eyes remained alight. "But Miles - our mysterious and wealthy strangers want to hire Admiral Naismith to kidnap Lord Miles Vorkosigan from the Barrayaran embassy." * — Lois McMaster Bujold

Mark's ideas tended to the bland, and there was no point in asking Miles, whose embittered suggestions all ran to things like Vomit Vanilla and Cockroach Crunch. Vorkosigan — Lois McMaster Bujold

I am surprised." She scanned the script rapidly. "Th-this is a p-pack of lies!" He looked worried. "Have you always had that little speech impediment?" he asked cautiously. "N-no, it's my souvenir from the Escobaran psych service, and the l-late war. Who came up with this g-garbage, anyway?" The line that particularly caught her eye referred to "the cowardly Admiral Vorkosigan and his pack of ruffians." "Vorkosigan's the bravest man I ever met." Gould took her firmly by the upper arm, and guided her to the shuttle hatch. "We have to go, now, to make the holovid timing. Maybe you can just leave that line out, all right? Now, smile. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Now, there's this about cynicism, Sergeant. It's the universe's most supine moral position. Real comfortable. If nothing can be done, then you're not some kind of shit for not doing it, and you can lie there and stink to yourself in perfect peace. — Lois McMaster Bujold

If you can't do what you want, do what you can. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Or that they believed you would not be here to inflict the consequences," said Ekaterin. Had they meant Vorkosigan to die, too? Or . . . what? "Oh, nice. That's reassuring." He bit rather aggressively into the last of his sandwich. She rested her chin on her hand and regarded him with wry curiosity. "Does ImpSec know you babble like this? — Lois McMaster Bujold

Do it for yourself. The universe will be around to collect its cut later. — Lois McMaster Bujold

It was a curious insight into Vorkosigan that he should so automatically accept her bare word as binding; he evidently thought along the same lines himself. The — Lois McMaster Bujold

Other than that, how was Kyril Island, Ensign Vorkosigan?" inquired the Count. "You didn't vid home much, your mother noticed." "I was busy. Lessee. The climate was ferocious, the terrain was lethal, a third of the population including my immediate superior was dead drunk most of the time. The average IQ equaled the mean temperature in degrees cee, there wasn't a woman for five hundred kilometers in any direction, and the base commander was a homicidal psychotic. Other than that, it was lovely. — Lois McMaster Bujold

All true wealth is biological (Aral Vorkosigan) — Lois McMaster Bujold

Oh, was that liquor of yours a stimulant?" asked Elena. "I wondered why he didn't fall asleep."
"Couldn't you tell?" chuckled Mayhew.
"Not really."
Miles twisted his head to take in Elena's upside-down worried face, and smile in weak reassurance. Sparkly black and purple whirlpools clouded his vision. Mayhew's laughter faded. "My God," he said hollowly, "you mean he's like that all the time? — Lois McMaster Bujold

Galeni made her smile but not laugh. The lack of any sense of play between them worried Miles; you had to have a keen sense of humor to do sex and stay sane. — Lois McMaster Bujold

For lunch, Tsipis led them to Hassadar's most exclusive locale - the official dining room of the Count's Residence, overlooking the Square. The remarkable spread which the staff laid on hinted that Miles had sent down a few urgent behind-the-scenes instructions for the care and feeding of his . . . gardener. Mark confirmed this after dessert when Kareen led Enrique and the widow off to see the garden and fountain in the Residence's inner courtyard, and he and Tsipis lingered over the exquisite vintage of Vorkosigan estate-bottled wine usually reserved for visits from Emperor Gregor. — Lois McMaster Bujold

It seems if you are Vorkosigan enough, you can even get away with murder." Ekaterin stiffened unhappily. Miles hesitated a fractional moment, considering responses: explanation, outrage, protest? Argument in a hallway with a half-potted fool? No. I am Aral Vorkosigan's son, after all. Instead, he stared up unblinkingly, and breathed, "So if you truly believe that, why are you standing in my way?" Vormurtos's inebriated sneer drained away, to be replaced by a belated wariness. With an effort at insouciance that he did not quite bring off, he unfolded himself, opening his hand to wave the couple past. When Miles bared his teeth in an edged smile, he backed up an extra and involuntary step. — Lois McMaster Bujold

A true Vor, Miles told himself severely, does not bury his face in his liegewoman's breasts and cry
even if he is at a convenient height for it. — Lois McMaster Bujold