I would've put this in the "Thread of Awesome ... Quotefile," but it's not fanfiction. This is from a short story, "The Book" by Michael Shaara, published in Galaxy Science Fiction, November 1953. The first-page blurb reads, "A weird world — cut off from the Universe, it had universal wisdom; facing death at every moment, it had the secret of peace!"
It's a world so repeatedly bombarded by meteorites that the random striking of death and ruin are accepted as casually as rainstorms on Earth; a planet with no government, no police, no law — and no need for them. Toward the end of the story, an explorer from Earth translates their philosophy....
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Big Brother is watching you. And damn, you are so bloody BORING.
It's a world so repeatedly bombarded by meteorites that the random striking of death and ruin are accepted as casually as rainstorms on Earth; a planet with no government, no police, no law — and no need for them. Toward the end of the story, an explorer from Earth translates their philosophy....
Quote: “They had a man here once ... who was as good a writer as there ever was. He wrote a book which these people use as their Bible. It’s like our Bible sometimes, but mostly it’s just the opposite. It preaches that a man shouldn’t worship anything.”"Red and full and glowing is thy heart; a steel is forging within thy breast. And what can hurt thee now?" The strength and peace that comes of knowing that you are abandoned by the Gods ... and TO HELL WITH THEM!
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“I have translated this the best way I could,” Beauclaire said thickly, “but remember this. This man could write. He was Shakespeare and Voltaire and all the rest all at once. He could make you feel. I couldn’t do a decent translation if I tried forever, but please listen and try to get what he means. I’ve put it in the style of Ecclesiastes because it’s something like that.”
Quote:Rise up smiling, and walk with me. Rise up in the armor of thy body and what shall pass shall make thee unafraid. Walk among the yellow hills, for they belong to thee. Walk upon grass and let thy feet descend into soft soil; in the end when all has failed thee the soil shall comfort thee, the soil shall receive thee and in thy dark bed thou shalt find such peace as is thy portion....
In thine armor, hear my voice. In thine armor, hear. Whatsoever thou doest, thy friend and thy brother and thy woman shall betray thee. Whatsoever thou dost plant, the weeds and the seasons shall spite thee. Wheresoever thou goest, the heavens shall fall upon thee. Though the nations shall come unto thee in friendship thou art cursed. Know that the Gods ignore thee. Know that thou art Life, and that pain shall forever come into thee, though thy years be without end and thy days without sleep, ever and forever. And knowing this, in thine armor, thou shalt rise up.
Red and full and glowing is thy heart; a steel is forging within thy breast. And what can hurt thee now? In thy granite mansion, what can hurt thee ever? Thou shalt only die. Therefore seek not redemption nor forgiveness for thy sins, for know that thou hast never sinned.
Let the Gods come to thee.
“They don’t ask for anything,” Beauclaire said. “No immortality, no forgiveness, no happiness. They take what comes and don’t — wonder.”
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Big Brother is watching you. And damn, you are so bloody BORING.
