In the beginning was the Word. Then came the fucking word processor. Then came the thought processor. Then came the death of literature. And so it goes. Francis
Hoyt’s view of hell is tactile; it is the pain which moves in him like jagged wires pulled through his veins and guts.
Finding a woman like that amidst the herd of half-feeling, half-caring, half-responding, females in our society of 1860's England was not so much like finding a diamond in the rough as it was finding...
Anticlimax is, of course, the warp and way of things. Real life seldom structures a decent denouement.
AIDS II was a human plague disease back long before the Hegira, said Johnny. It disabled the immune system. This … virus … works the same with an AI.
Feels the same about life - that involvement with it is like the Catholic Communion only the World is the Host, and it must be chewed.
The essence of human experience lay not primarily in the peak experiences, the wedding days and triumphs which stood out in the memory like dates circled in red on old calendars, but, rather, in the u...
Are the only bullets in truth’s bandolier. And poets are the snipers.
You want to be a hero, he repeated. You want to be one of those rare human beings who make history, rather than merely watch it flow around them like water around a rock.
Why does our species always have to take our full measure of God-given misery and terror and mortality and then make it worse?
Want to talk about Shakespeare's sonnets? asked Orphu of Io.Are you shitting me? The moravecs loved the ancient human colloquial phrases, the more scatological the better.Yes, said Orphu. I am most de...
There were strict laws protecting card privacy but laws had a bad habit of being ignored or abrogated when societal push came to totalitarian shove.
There is a war up there where time creaks which spans galaxies and eons back and forward to the Big Bang and the Final Implosion\\
The ship did not respond to queries. Without the ship, there could be no fatline relay to the Ousters, the Web, or anywhere else beyond Hyperion. Normal comm bands were down. ‘Could the ship have been...
The marvelous organic computer wedged in my skull had dumped its language content like a flawed program. The right hemisphere was not without some language—but only the most emotionally charged units...
The essence of honor lay in the moment of combat between equals.
The best lack all conviction, he thought, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.
The Zen Gnostics claim forty billion followers, he rumbled. But what kind of religion is that, eh? No churches. No priests. No holy books. No concept of sin. Dur
That’s all! Now either leave us alone or join us as a father rather than a receiver of sacrifices. You have the choice of Abraham!
Sometimes there is a thin line separating orthodox zeal from apostasy, said Father Lenar Hoyt. So began the priest’s story.