Joan Commented upon sentence: "My body is your property, but my love is not. My love is my own, and I shall Love you feircely while you kill me."

-Joan to the Lord Femtosex upon hearning her sentence of death;
The Dead lady of Clown Town, Corwainer Smith.
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Dear Eleanor,
You came to my house to tend me, Eleanor, while I was sick and Trying to finish this book. You died in the little guest room next to my bedroom. You spent the night there because you wanted to get a special breakfast for me, Eleanor, since I was sick at home while my wife had to be taken to a hospital, too.
You died there in my house, Eleanor; you looked very sleepy when you were dead, like one of those little "colored" dolls that they have in the department stores in America.
You were a Negro, Eleanor, and I have been called white. For seventeen years you shared my home, cooking, cleaning, and tending my things in America. You were a woman and I am a man. In seventeen years, we were thousands of times just the two of us in the house, and there was never an indecent gesture or an unchaste word from one of us to the other. I was kind, generous, courteous and thoughtful toward you. You were kind, generous, courteous and thoughtful toward me.
Only when the blue-clad police carried your little body away did I finally say to the morgue station wagon those words which I never said to you in life, "I love you, Eleanor. Where are you going, my little brown girl?"
I know where you are, Eleanor. Your little body is in a box somewhere on the other side of the world, in Virginia. I am Back in Austrailia again. But I can tell you this, Eleanor. I honor and remember the Seventeen years of your intellegence and kindness, while I was called master and you were called servant. I'll see the real you again, Eleanor, in a friendly place in which we both beleive.

-Cordwainer Smith, 1964. Dedication to "the Space Lords" a collection of short stories.

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"Do you have any questions?" said the Lady Johanna.
"When do we get the caps?" said several. they were human enough that they laughed at their own impaitience.
"Soon," she said reassuringly, "very soon."

-The Lady Johanna at the conclusion of her address to the prisoners of Shayol; The Planet Shayol, Corwainer Smith.
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"Shayol may have told you that Hell itself is not much to fear, if the people in it are good to each other"

-Corwainer Smith, Commenting on his story "A Planet named Shayol"