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Dragonriders of Pern: The Masterharper of Pern
by Anne McCaffrey

p.70 "Cortath?" he called out, racing across the vast courtyard as fast as he could toward the three bronzes who had landed to one side. He ducked in among the greens and blues, completely unaware that it was actually the greens and blues who were sensitive to those who might make good Impressions.
     Cortath is not here today.
     Robie stopped short, breathing hard as he realized that, indeed, his good friend was not there. "But I wanted to talk to him," he said, almost in tears with disappointment.
     I will tell him a harper boy regretted his absence.
     "I'm not a harper...yet," Robinton admitted, identifying the not-so-bright bronze as the one who had spoken to him. "Would you mind my talking to you? If you've got nothing better to do for a moment? May I ask your name?" And he executed a half bow to show he was being respectful.
     You may. I call myself Kilminth and my rider is S'bran. What is your name?
     As if you'll remember, said another dragon voice. It was the very dark bronze one. It is only a child.
     Who hears dragons when they speak, so I will talk to him while our riders are busy. It is nice to talk to a child who hears.
     He's not old enough to be Searched.
     Don't mind Calanuth, Kilminth told Robie in a somewhat supercilious tone. He's too young to have much sense.
     Oh, go curl up in the sun, and then Kilminth lowered his head down to Robinton.

p.95 "It doesn't cost any marks to be gracious, no matter where you are or what you're doing," his mother was always saying. "No singer of professional caliber would think of drowning out other singers" was another point she often made.

p.178 The Charter was first taught as a Teaching Ballad to the youngest children, and then with more detail as the students grew old enough to memorize its provisions and to understand the meaning of each clause. A holder was not doing his duty by his people to deny them this information.
     On the other hand, there was no provision made to punish holders who did not disseminate the information contained in the Charter. This was one of the shortcomings of the document. When Robinton had queried that in class, Master Washell had responded with a snort and then the notion that it must never have occurred to the writers of the charter that anyone would be denied such basic human rights.
     Robinton hoped that those who had learned their figures and letters under the previous holder would pass them on--however illicitly--to their children. Knowledge had a way of permeating any barriers set to exclude it. He could only hope that held true in Fax's hold.

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Dragonriders of Pern: Dragonseye
by Anne McCaffrey

p.16 Zulaya was tall for a woman, long-legged--all the better for bestriding a dragon's neck. He was a full head taller than she was, which she said she liked in him: B'ner had been just her height. It was her coloring that fascinated K'vin: the inky black curly hair that, once freed of the flying helmet, tumbled down below her waist. The hair framed a wide, high cheek-boned face, set off the beige of her smooth skin and large, lustrous eyes. that were nearly black; a wide and sensual mouth above a strong chin that gave her face a strength and purpose that reinforced her authority with anyone. She strode, unlike some of the hold women who minced along, her steel-rimmed boot heels noisy on the flagstones, her arms swinging at her side. She'd had time to put a long, slitted skirt over her riding gear, and it opened as she walked, showing a well-formed leg in the leather pants and high boots. She'd turned the high-riding boot cuffs down over her calf, and the red fur made a nice accent to her costume, echoed in the fur trim of her cuffs and collar, which she had opened. As usual, she wore the sapphire pendant she had inherited as the eldest female of her Blood.

p.93-94 Wondering at the good fortune that had happened to her this day, Debera watched the sleeping dragonet as dearly as any mother observed a newborn, much wanted child. Morath's belly still bulged with uneven lumps from all the meat she had eaten. T'dam had laughed when Debera worried that the dragonet would make herself sick with such greed.
     "They repeat the process six or seven times a day the first month," he'd warned her. You'll end up thinking you've spent all your life chopping gobbets until she settles to her usual three meals a day. But don't worry. By the end of the first year she'll be eating only twice a week--and catch her own at that."

p.145 Odd how important simple thins, like freshly laundered clothing, assumed the level of luxury when you've had to do without.

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The Dolphins of Pern

Dragonriders of Pern: The Dolphins of Pern
by Anne McCaffrey

p.11 "I swim good" Readis announced in a strong, loud voice. "I swim as good as any shipfish!'
     "That you do," his mother agreed equably.
     "Don't I know that as taught you?" Alemi replied cheerfully. "And I can swim that much better and still use a vest in a small boat."
     "An' in stormy weather," Readis added to prove that he knew the whole lesson on safety vests. "My mother made mine," he said proudly, puffing out his vested chest and grinning up at her. "With love in every stitch!"

p.122-123 Afo ecstatically reported the Nolly singing to them. Dolphins had songs of their own, which all the Tilleks had taught so well they were embedded in their memories, which they sang remembering the waters they had come from. Sometimes the songs were sad--from the times when many dolphins had died in nets that entangled them. Sometimes the sadness came from missing the mans, the Dunkirk, the Crossing of the Great Currents, the Swimming of the Whirlpool, or the finding of man things that got into the water and shouldn't stay there; the saving of mans in storms. There were many songs dolphins would sounds. Sometimes every pod would join in, weaving the sounds back and forth across the sea of Pern.
     That darktime many songs floated on the Great Currents.
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Chronicles of Pern: First Fall

Dragondriders of Pern: Chronicles of Pern: First Fall
by Anne McCaffrey

p.127 "Should we bring a boat to make him feel at home?" Brian asked, grinning as he swayed easily with Cloudy's excited cavortings.
     "No, let's just make tracks and get him here, or the day'll be gone with no door in place," Red said, swinging up into his saddle.
     "And no feast tonight either, if my front doors are not in place, Peter Hanrahan," Mairi yelled from the kitchen door.
     "Let's go then, lads, or we go hungry!"

p.128 "How're we expected to get across that?" He pointed disgustedly at the swirling current of muddy water that separated them.
     "I told you to look for the cairn and line up the poles," Red shouted back, pointing to the right and then indicating the plainly visible--to him--steel pole on his side of the bank. "Spare me from spacemen who need a bloody computer to navigate and a blinking beacon to guide them."

p.222 The captain held up an admonishing finger at her science officer. "Remember the Roma, she said again.
     "Ma'am, eve the situation on the Roma didn't happen in a day."
     In the process of leaving the conference room, the captain stopped and stared quizzically at Ni Morgana. "Are you deliberately misquoting something, Lieutenant?"

p.228-229 Benden had plotted the gig's course to interrupt the geosynchronous orbit of the three colony ships, to see if the colonists had left a message to be retrieved. But when he opened communications, all he got was the standard identification response, stating the name and designation of the Yokohama.
     "That might not mean anything," Saraidh remarked, seeing Benden's disappointment. "If the colony's up and running, they won't have much use for those hulks. Though I find that sight rather sad," she added as Rukbat suddenly illuminated the deserted vessels.
     "Why," Nev asked, surprised.
     Saraidh gave a shrug of her slender, elegant shoulders. "Look up their battle records and you might appreciate their present desuetude more."
     "Their what?" Nev looked blank.
     "Look up that word, too," she said, and, in an almost cloying tone, spelled it for him.

NAMES: Aleta, Cass, Aphro, China, Captiva, Teresa, Kibby, Amadeus
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Dragonriders of Pern: All the Weyrs of Pern
by Anne McCaffrey

p.47 "You don't sleep, do you, Aivas?"
     "This facility operates as long as it has sufficient power to do so. Sleep is a human requirement."
     Sebell winked at Menolly.
     "And you have none?" she demanded, jamming her fists into her belt as she faced the screen squarely.
     "This facility is programmed to give optimum use at human convenience."
     Do I hear a tone of apology in your voice, Aivas?" she asked.
     "This facility is programmed not to give offense."
p.67 "K'van had been a determined and responsible youngster, and now that he was grown to manhood, those traits were refined. He would stand against Toric simply because Toric didn't think he could.

p.89 AGAINST HIS ENTREATIES, F'lar took Master Robinton back to Cove Hold.
     "You need the rest and the quiet, Robinton," F'lar told the Harper sternly. "You won't get half that if you're allowed to stay at Landing again tonight. You're exhausted."
     "But what a wonderful way to get tired, F'lar. And every time I turn around, I think of something else I must ask Aivas." Robinton chuckled. "It's rather like knowing you have the most fabulous vintage in your glass and being torn between drinking and admiring.
     F'lar shot him an amused look. "That's apt enough, considering the source."

p.100 She looked up and smiled at the Harper. "We've accomplished so much today, Master Robinton."
     "And did you get any sleep last night, young woman?"
     Her cheeks dimpled in a mischievous smile. Indeed we did!" And then she colored. "I mean, we both slept. I mean, Piemur fell asleep first--oh, blast!"

p.238 "At least Groghe keeps his sense of proportion. Here he comes now." She pointed to Lord Groghe, who was leading the fort Hold contingent into the Hatching Ground. His attire was almost sober in the midst of the other gaudily dressed folk. Lessa nodded approval. "And he's sensibly wearing boots," she went on as she watched sturdy Lord Holder striding across the sands while others in his party minced, lifting their feet high in an effort to cool their leather soles. "The Dance of The Hatching Ground Sands," she added, stifling a laugh.
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First of all...

Yay! 100th book post! :D

I promise that this'll be the last use of large, sparkly text I use...until the 200th post, and that could be awhile. :)

Dragonriders of Pern: The Renegades of Pern
by Anne McCaffrey

p.23-24 "We're honest traders, bringing good wares and news to isolated holds that can't always get to a Gather. We travel from inclination and choice. This is a broad and beautiful world we live in, Jayge, and we'll see as much of it as we can. We spend long enough in one place to make friends and understand different ways of doing things. That's far better, to my mind, than never moving out of one valley all your born days, and never hearing a new way of speaking or a new way of doing. Keeps the brain blood circulating; shifts ideas and opens eyes and hearts."

p.113 Armald, with a big frame and a threatening arrangement of thick features, was a good man to have at one's back, but he was not clever enough to spot menace unless it came at him, swinging sword or club.

p.162 "She deserved to be dropped down a smooth hole and left there."

p.261 "We could go have a look," the Masterharper suggested. "I'd like to find something myself! Wouldn't you?"
     "Not if I have to dig it out by myself," Piemur replied.
     "Would I ask you to do something I wouldn't do?" Master Robinton demanded, wide-eyed with an innocence that appeared remarkably genuine.
     "Frequently!" Fortunately, there're enough willing hands up at the Plateau, so I'll see that I have help."

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Dragonriders of Pern: Dragonsdawn
by Anne McCaffrey

p.42 "Hello," she said in a tone between surprise and cordiality.

p.85-86 "Forewarned is forearmed, Sallah. Have you mentioned these suspicions to anyone else?"
     She shook her head vigorously. "No, sir! It's bad enough suspecting there are maggots in the meat without offering anyone else a bite."

p.121 Once again, Sallah shook her head over her whimsical fancy, which had managed to settle on one of the most elusive males of her acquaintance. Of course, she consoled herself, anything easily had is rarely worth having.

p.121 "Lords, gods, and minor deities!"

p.134 She had almost bridged the distance between continent and island and could see waves lashing the granite rock. she veered to port, looking for the mouth of the natural harbor where the long-dead survey team had made camp. She had told Kimmer to meet her there. She felt better about being someplace that had already been occupied. She could not stand listening to the idiot colonists going on and on about being "first" to see this or "first" to step there, or the naming arguments that continually dominated conversation night after night around the bonfire. Shit in Drake's Lake! Fatuous ass! Lousy gravity-ball player!

NAMES: Ongola, Bitra, Tashkovich, Nabol, Lemos, Olubushtu, Kung, Usuai, Kimmer, Sallah, Munson, Alhinwa
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Dragonriders of Pern: Nerilka's Story
by Anne McCaffrey

p.129 "She's birthing," with such authority that I had to smother a snicker.
     Kindly, none of the men insulted him by looking. But we all heard the mare sink to the deep straw bedding. How clever of animals to improve on humans in this activity. We heard several grunts from the mare, no screams or long ululating cries, no weeping and complaining about her lot, or cursing the man who brought her to this condition.

p.166 He came to me every night, kind and thorough, until the morning when we both knew I had not yet conceived. I cannot tell you how relieved I was, that feeling overpowering any sense of failure that I had not immediately conceived for him, for it meant he must live another month at least. I would have that much more of his company to remember. I could no longer deny to myself that Alessan had always been important to me from the moment he had married my dear Suriana, just as Ruatha had been the haven denied me first by the circumstance of her death, and then by my parents' arbitrary decision at Gathertime. Now he was vital to my heart and soul in a way that I never could have anticipated in the wildest flight of fancy. I treasured every casual touch; sometimes, in the night, I would feel his questing hand, as if to reassure his sleeping self that I was still there. I cherished each word he spoke of approval for my management, my suggestions. I stored them up, as others might hoard marks or harvests, to strengthen me in the famine of his absence.
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Dragonriders of Pern: Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
by Anne McCaffrey

p.45 To Moreta, of all the Gathers she'd ever attended, the Ruathan Gather at that moment of dusk evoked best what Gathers should be--folk from every weyr, hold, and craft assembled to eat, drink, dance, and enjoy one another's company. The glowbaskets on their standards cast pitches of golden light on the crowded tables, on the dancers, on the clusters of people standing about talking, and on the circles of men near the wine barrels. The darting figures of children wove in and out of the light patches, and occasionally their laughter and shouts cut across the music and the stamping of the dancers. The smell of roasted meats and warm evening air, of dust and and pungent glows and wine reinforced all prospect of entertainment.

p.71 "It's a bit late to cry Thread when the burrows set, isn't it?"

p.72 Nothing will change yesterday, Orlith remarked philosophically. So now you must deal with today.

p.106 Lord Leef had once confided that the way to avoid arguments was to keep them from starting. Tactful withdrawal, he had called it.

p.130 Old L'mal had told Moreta that the efficiency of the dragon was only hampered by his rider's ability to brag. However a rider flew, so long as no Thread reached the ground, the flight was well done!

p.150-151 The confrontation had shaken Moreta. She was drained of all energy, even Orlith's, and it had become an effort to keep upright. She gripped the edge of her chair, trembling. It wasn't just Sh'gall's rage but the unpalatable, unavoidable knowledge that she was likely the next victim of the plague in the Weyr. Her head was beginning to ache and it was not the kind that succeeded tension or the stress and concentration of repairing dragon injuries.
     You are not well, Orlith said, confirming her self-diagnosis.
     I have probably not been well since I went to that runner's rescue, Moreta replied. L'mal always said that runners would be my downfall.
     You have not fallen down. You have fallen ill, Orlith corrected her, dryly humorous in turn. Come now to the weyr and rest.

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Dragonriders of Pern: The White Dragon
by Anne McCaffrey

p.40 "Do you realize," he asked, twirling the glass in his hand, "that there wasn't a drop of wine on board?"
     "Oh, no!" Lessa cried in a comic dismay. F'lar's laughter joined hers. "What a deprivation!"

p.68 "Got another explanation?" Menolly asked belligerently.
     "No, but that doesn't mean there isn't one," and Jaxom grinned at her.

p.78-79 Everyone was right willing to discuss his Lady Mother Gemma with him, but did they ever fumble and fight to find another subject if mentioned his unlamented father. Were they afraid to have him get ideas from his father's aggressive ways? Or was it merely courtesy not to talk about the dead unkindly? They certainly had no bar about discussing the living in destructive terms.

p.175 The subject of fire-lizard memory was discussed again; F'lar unwilling to concede that, unlike the dragons they otherwise resembled, the little creatures were capable of recall. Their tales might all be imaginary, the results of sun-dreams and insubstantial. To that Robinton replied that imagination relied on memory--without one, the other was impossible.

p.193 If anyone had told Jaxom that morning that he'd enjoy a comfortable dinner with the Benden Weyrleaders, he'd have told them to open their glow baskets.

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Dragonriders of PernDragonquest
by Anne McCaffrey

p.38 Gratitude is an ill-fitting tunic that can chafe and smell if worn too long.

p.54 "But why? Give me one good reason why."
     "Give me one good reason why not!"

p.122 "Ah, but a man can sleep anytime. A laugh restores the soul."

p.140 I saw a demonstration of the device today and we're going to rig one for the Lord Holders at Telgar's wedding..."
     "And the Threads will wait for that?"
     F'lar snorted. "They may be the lesser evil, frankly. The Threads prove to be more flexible in their ways than the Oldtimers and less trouble than the Lord Holders."

p.167-168 "We're ready, sirs," Robinton announced and, giving a curt bow of his head to the other riders, turned on his heel to follow N'ton.
     "I've half a mind--" the green rider began.
     "Obviously," Robinton cut in, his voice as cold as between and as menacing as Thread. "Brudegan, Tategarl, ride with him. Sebell, Talmor, on the blue."

p.239 "Then all all that dark stuff is land?" Lord Oterel had difficulty not being impressed. and discouraged, Lessa thought. Tillek's Lord Holder must have been hoping to press the extermination of Thread on the Red Star.
     "Of that we are not sure," replied Wansor with no lessening of the authority in his manner. Less approved more and more of Wansor. A man ought not be afraid to say he didn't know. Or a woman.

p.269 He smoothed her hair back from her forehead as if such an action were the most important occupation in the world.
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Dragonriders of PernDragonflight
by Anne McCaffrey

p.12 Fax sternly gestured to a blue-gowned woman, her hair white-streaked, her face lined with disappointments and bitterness, her body swollen with pregnancy. She advanced awkwardly, stopping several feet from her lord. From her attitude, F'lar deduced that she came no closer to Fax than was absolutely necessary.

p.30 They had been built outside the cliff of Ruatha by Fax's first Warder, a subtler man than all eight of his successors. He had achieved more than all the others, and Lessa had honestly regretted the necessity of his death. But he would have made her revenge impossible. He would have found her out before she had learned how to camouflage herself and her little interferences. What had his name been? she could not recall. Well, she regretted his death.

p.73 "You wash up...pretty, yes, almost pretty," he allowed with such amused condescension in his voice that she pulled roughly away from him, piqued. His low laugh mocked her. "How could one guess, after all, what was under the grime of...ten full Turns, I would say? Yes, you are certainly pretty enough to placate F'nor."
     Thoroughly antagonized by his attitude, she asked in icy tones, "And F'nor must be placated at all costs?"
     He stood grinning at her till she had to clench her fists at her sides to keep from beating that grin off his face.
     At length, he said, "No matter, we must eat, and I shall require your services." At her startled exclamation, he turned, grinning maliciously now as his movement revealed the caked blood on his left sleeve. "The least you can do is bathe wounds honorably received in fighting your battle."

p.75 Ashamed of her unbased fright and furious that he had witnessed it, Lessa sat rebelliously down on the fur-covered wall seat, heartily wishing him a variety of serious and painful injuries that she could dress with inconsiderate hands. She would not waste further opportunities.

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