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Quote by Robert A. Heinlein

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Stranger in a Strange Land

Published in 1961, this novel follows the story of Valentine Michael Smith, an Earthman raised on Mars, as he returns to Earth and navigates human society. The book combines elements of science fiction with philosophical and religious ideas, creating a unique and thought-provoking narrative. more

Author

Robert A. Heinlein
Robert A. Heinlein

Robert A. Heinlein was an American science fiction writer, hailed as a master in the field of science fiction. His works have had a profound impact on the development of science fiction literature, with classics such as 'Starship Troopers' and 'The Time Machine'. more

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“You know the feeling when you're falling? When you take a step onto what used to be sold ground and suddenly it just falls out from under you? You start to spiral slowly, gathering speed until you know that you are within seconds from hitting the ground, and you're praying that you'll hit, that everything will just disappear, that everything you've been fighting to escape will just consume you and everything will be over. But then the ground doesn't come and you just keep falling and falling and falling, trapped in a nightmare that will never end.”

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“I hear ding her neglectials to smilined, - there is a brownstone in the East Seventies where, during the early years of the war, I had my first New York apartment. It was one room crowded with attic fur-niture, a sofa and fat chairs upholstered in that itchy, particular red velvet that one associates with hot days on a train. The walls were stucco, and a color rather like tobacco-spit. Everywhere, in the bathroom too, there were prints of Roman ruins freckled brown with age. The single window looked out on a fire escape. Even so, my spirits heightened whenever I felt in my pocket the key to this apartment; with all its gloom, it still was a place of my own, the first, and my books were there, and jars of pencils to sharpen, everything I needed, so I felt, to become the writer I wanted to be.”

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“In the sea, Corr’s clumsiness will disappear, his weight cradled by the saltwater. I don’t want to say good-bye. I blink to clear my vision and reach up. I pull off his halter. The ocean is his love and now, finally, he’ll have it. I back out of the surf. There’s a thin, long wail. Corr takes a labored step away from the November sea. And another. He is slow, and the sea sings to us both, but he returns to me.”

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