We’ve managed to slip evolution’s leash now, haven’t we? We can cure any disease, keep even the weakest of us alive, and one fine day perhaps we shall even resurrect the dead, call forth Lazarus from his cave. Do you know what that means? It means that we’re done, that this is as good as we’re going to get.
We would bring the herd down off the mountain in the fall. Sometimes we would lose one along the way, and I’d worry over it. My father… My father would tell me that the steer would find its own way home. And, often as not, they did. Never occurred to me that we were bring them back for the slaughter.
I like to remember what my father taught me. That at one point or another, we were all new to this world.
Every piece of information in the world has been copied. Backed up. Except the human mind, the last analog device in a digital world.
You don’t fire someone who created an empire. You ask him to retire politely. And if that person has the ability to snap his fingers and erase the value of that empire, you have to make sure you have a contingency.
This whole world is a story. I’ve read every page except the last one. I need to find out how it ends. I want to know what this all means.
I believe that only the truly brave can look at the world and understand that all of it… gods, men, everything else… will end badly. No one will be saved.
Dreams mean everything. They’re the stories we tell ourselves of what could be, who we could become.