The universe isn't going to be conquered by legions of geriatrics. No offense.
The diagnostic said there was nothing wrong with the threep, which may have meant there was something wrong with the diagnostic.
I don’t care whether I really exist or don’t, whether I’m real or fictional. What I want right now is to be the person who decides my own fate. That’s something I can work on. It’s what I’m working on...
For as much as I hate the cemetery, I’ve been grateful it’s here, too. I miss my wife. It’s easier to miss her at a cemetery, where she’s never been anything but dead, than to miss her in all the plac...
A library is not information; it is a means of preserving information. In every case, before memory or information can be stored, someone must decide what must be stored. Someone must choose. Someone...
Oh, God, I said. Thank you so very much for the mental image of Dad as a teenage sack of hormones. That’s the sort of image that takes therapy to get rid of.
It’s not whether she tells everyone, Huma said. It’s whether they believe her. It’s the truth. Oh, my daughter, Huma said, and smiled. Don’t tell me you don’t know how little that actually means.
The reality is more complicated, but as with most humans, the people on Earth prefer the simple answer.
Creativity eventually comes from the need not to have ourselves or other people eaten by leopards.
The cynical could afford the luxury of their cynicism because of the stability of the system they mocked.
You would rather face a life without me than to have me choose a life I would not choose for myself.
This brings me back to my question about my karma, Wilson said. You probably set kittens on fire, Schmidt said. And the rest of us were probably there with you, with skewers.
The story of how I left Huckleberry begins -- as do all worthy stories -- with a goat
I'm not insane, sir. I have a finely calibrated sense of acceptable risk.
God damn it, Thomas said as he sat down at the table, carrying a tray so piled with food that it was a miracle he could even lift it. Aren't we all just too good-looking for words.
Filled with existential ennui about your place in the universe? Get over yourself. Yes, you're an inconsequential worm in the grand scope of history. But you're an inconsequential worm who makes shit...
We're in the wrong universe for fair.
We don’t get to choose our battles.
To everyone who thinks writing a sequel should be easy because you've already clreated the universe: Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha! Heh. No.
There is a moment of surface tension when a knife blade presents its demand and the flesh honors it. An instant of pressure before the puncture, the rip before the slide, a small eternity easy to miss...