Most of the masses still believe in magic, you know. Spells. Potions. It's a big business, I am told.
Once a guy stood all day shaking bugs from his hair.
A weird time in which we are alive. We can travel anywhere we want, even to other planets. And for what? To sit day after day, declining in morale and hope.
No rational response was possible. Her irrationality made it so. The terrible power, he thought, of illogic.
But we cannot do it all at once; it is a sequence. An unfolding process. We can only control the end by making a choice at each step. He
Death at each moment, one avenue which is open to us at any point.
She smiled innocuously—at variance with her words. At this point he could not discern her degree of seriousness. A topic of world-shaking importance, yet dealt with facetiously; an android trait, poss...
Dreadful low-class jingoistic racist invectives, unworthy of me.
What is identity? he asked himself. Where does the act end? Nobody knows.
I didn't choose to get entangled in my domestic life, my boxer's clinch with Kathy. And if you think I did or do, it's because you're morbidly young. You've failed to pass from adolescent freedom into...
Nothing is true
Simple Shepherd Mortuary
If you or I ever really accepted the moral responsibility for what we've done in our lifetime—we'd drop dead or go mad. Living creatures weren't made to understand what they do.
There ought to be an ordinance that a man can't work for the same outfit as his wife; hell, even in the same city.
…we all lie to ourselves; we tell our own selves more lies than we ever do other people.
He had wondered, as had most people at one time or another, precisely why an android bounced helplessly about when confronted by an empathy-measuring test. Empathy, evidently, existed only within the...
You will be required to do wrong no matter where you go. It is the basic condition of life, to be required to violate your own identity.
Better a live dog than a dead prince
I see,' Rick said. He felt numb. Completely. Throughout his entire body.
I even gave up, for a while, stopping by the window of the room to look out at the lights and deep, illuminated streets. That's a form of dying, that losing contact with the city like that.
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