Embassytown: a city of contradictions on the outskirts of the universe. Avice is an immerser, a traveller on the immer, the sea of space and time below the everyday, now returned to her birth planet. Here on Arieka, humans are not the only intelligent life, and Avice has a rare bond with the... read more
“We tell the truth best by becoming lies.”Avice - p. 296
“Tactile languages, bioluminescent words, all varieties of sounds that organisms can make. Dialects comprehensible only as palimpsests of references to everything already said, or in which adjectives are rude and verbs unholy.”
Being a child is like nothing. It’s only being. Later, when we think about it, we make it into youth.Highlighted by 148 Kindle customers
A scholar can never let mere wrongness get in the way of the theory.”Highlighted by 57 Kindle customers
“I don’t want to be a simile anymore,” I said. “I want to be a metaphor.”Highlighted by 44 Kindle customers
“Language is the continuation of coercion by other means.”Highlighted by 42 Kindle customers
This is what I excelled at: the life-technique of aggregated skill, luck, laziness and chutzpah that we call floaking.Highlighted by 33 Kindle customers
Their language is organised noise, like all of ours are, but for them each word is a funnel. Where to us each word means something, to the Hosts, each is an opening. A door, through which the thought of that referent, the thought itself that reached for that word, can be seen.Highlighted by 28 Kindle customers
Whenever any society dies there must be heroes whose fightback is to not change.Highlighted by 28 Kindle customers
I admit defeat. I’ve been trying to present these events with a structure. I simply don’t know how everything happened. Perhaps because I didn’t pay proper attention, perhaps because it wasn’t a narrative, but for whatever reasons, it doesn’t want to be what I want to make it.Highlighted by 24 Kindle customers
A classic unspoken agreement among escapees from a small town: don’t look back, don’t be each other’s anchors, no nostalgia.Highlighted by 24 Kindle customers
If language, thought and word were separated, as they just had been, there was no succulence, no titillating impossible. No mystery. Where Language had been there was only language: signifying sound, to do things with and to.Highlighted by 23 Kindle customers
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