I've never really been very interested in computers themselves. I don't watch them I watch how people behave around them. That's becoming more difficult to do because everything is around them.
Something he’d found and lost so many times. It belonged, he knew – he remembered – as she pulled him down, to the meat, the flesh the cowboys mocked. It was a vast thing, beyond knowing, a sea of inf...
She looks after him, feeling a wave of longing, loneliness. Not sexual particularly but to do with the nature of cities, the thousands of strangers you pass in a day, probably never to see again.
She is like a little safe, locked, that no one can open. Perhaps there is a treasure inside.
A year here and he still dreamed of cyberspace, hope fading nightly. All the speed he took, all the turns he'd taken and the corners he cut in Night City, and he'd still see the matrix in his dreams,...
When we do the best we can, we never know what miracle is wrought in our life, or in the life of another.
We have no future because our present is too volatile. We have only risk management. The spinning of the given moment's scenarios. Pattern recognition.
Time is money, but also money is money.
It worked okay.
Homo sapiens is about pattern recognition, he says. Both a gift and a trap.
He gestured for it to sit. The bench vibrated briefly in anticipation, shedding drops of rain. The peripheral sat.
Be quiet, darling. Let pattern recognition have its way.
And, for an instant, she stared directly into those soft blue eyes and knew, with an instinctive mammalian certainty, that the exceedingly rich were no longer even remotely human.
Dreaming in public is an important part of our job description, as science writers, but there are bad dreams as well as good dreams. We're dreamers, you see, but we're also realists, of a sort.
Take me home, she said, and the words hit me like a whip. I think I shook my head. Take me home. There were levels of pain there, and subtlety, and an amazing cruelty. And I knew then that I'd never b...
His ugliness was the stuff of legend. In an age of affordable beauty, there was something heraldic about his lack of it.
He robbed a bank in Wichita.
Had me this boy once. You kinda remind me . . . She turned and surveyed the corridor. Johnny, his name was.
All the meat, he thought, and all it wants.
There are tumults of the mind, when, like the great convulsions of Nature, all seems anarchy and returning chaos; yet often, in those moments of vast disturbance, as in the strife of Nature itself, so...