science-fiction

Whatever you do, please don__ do anything reckless. These are very powerful people, some of which are very dangerous._ She hesitates, then continues. __his is a government agency, and you__e just_ She trails off, and I have a feeling that I know what she__ going to say.____ just an office assistant,_ I mutter, repeating Gideon__ words.__o. I was going to say that you__e too in love with my daughter to think rationally.

I know what ails you.

When I think of war, I see blood. Pain and suffering. Nothing good comes from war.But there is good. There will be an outcome. One side will find peace, solace. While the other will end in bitter loss.There are two sides to the coin of war.

The fire crackled. On Jutaire, without oxygen, the fire is different. Fed by different air. Maybe it wishes it were orange, for it sputters and reaches up to the sky with angry fists of blue and purple. It still doesn't know we can't all get what we want.

A human lifeIs the time that happenswhileThe Earth takes a breakFor you to livebetweenInhaling and exhaling your soulfrom the un-endless spaceNamed infinity

Where do I go from here? She thought to herself.Truth was, it didn__ matter.She had a new beginning.

Sometimes you find a lie, and sometimes it finds you.

We didn__ cause the apocalypse___ut we were too dumb to see it,_ she snaps. __hat was our mistake.

The sea in all its vastness is its own, real world. Man is nature's sci-fi.

Then the true name for religion,' Fat said, 'is death.''The secret name,' I agreed. 'You got it. Jesus died; Asklepios died - they killed Mani worse than they killef jesus, but nobody even cares; nobody even remembers. They killed the Catharist in southern France by the tens of thousands. In the Thirty Years War, hundreds of people died. Protestants and Catholics - manual slaughter. Death is the real name for it; not God, not the Savior, not love - death. Kevin is rights about his cat. It's all there in his dead cat. The Great Judge can't answer Kevin: "Why did my cat die?" Answer: "Damned i I knoe." There is no answer; there is only a dead animal that just wanted to cross the street. We're all animals that want to cross the street only something mows us down half-way across that we never saw. Go ask Kevin. "Your cat was stupid." "Who made the cat? Why did he make the cat stupid? Did the cat learn by being killed, and if so, what did he learn? Did Sherri learn anything from dying of cancer? did gloria learn anything-''Okay, enough,' Fat said.'Kevin is right,' I said. 'Go out and get laid.''By who? they're all dead.'I said, 'There's more. Still alive. Lay one of them before she dies or you die or somebody dies, some person or animal. You said it yourself: the universe is irrational because the mind behind it is irrational. You are irrational and you know it. We all are and we know it, on some level. I'd write a book about it but no one would believe a group of human being could be as irrational as we are, as we've acted.

I am inclined to trust you. You shouldn__ be like that with another man, not ever; but I can__ help it. I felt it strongly from the instant I heard your voice; and though I thought momentarily that it would falter, it didn__. It__ still here. You see, the essence of trust is not knowing a person__ motive; it__ knowing what isn__. It__ a simple process of trial and error that gets you to the heart of a man; and once that soft voice and those light feet of yours got to moving I saw in you no measure of ill intent.

If I could make people feel, just for a day or an hour, what it__ like to love with infiniteness, then they would be animals no longer, but some greater creature, deserving of that title human. I__e bettered a day though. On earth, they will have it thus: from birth to unavoidable death, a man is pumped so full of love that his eyes bleed rainbows and his mouth a barrel of miracles. His hands will heal then make monuments to commemorate it; they__l press tight and pray for no man, no god but himself; and his mind_ his mind will shower like spring rains. He will steal away from the shadow of ambition. He__l be his own sun and light up the world with new marvels _ be they art, philosophies, science _ and in his brightness put the mundane, not himself, in shadows, and how rightfully. Each a captain and a maker, a mark-setter and stealer of shows... Earth__ skies will clap with the thunder of our majesty, not with violence, doubt, confusion, futility, and monotony; anything _ anything _ but the dull drone of duplication and robo-behaviour.

How would it alter Juliet__ love perception to learn the sea is but a rounded jug of water? Would her sensuous analogy turned simple simile unveil to her the limits of herself? Or would she forget the ocean, that deplorable casket, and turn on the true bottomless tumbler, the only running tap: the sky? It may have lost the title __eavens_ when its gods were dethroned, but its infinity reigns. So long as you walk, it reigns. So long as I talk and you listen, there__ a voice and ears to keep it active, moving, and reason to say: look! infinity lives. And when we and the other consciousnesses pass, though it in part dies with us, still it reigns. It will, in a sense, plod on, like a lifeless coffin through its own space, sails set for nothing, unstoppable when trailing its fabric.

She captured the spot of my world__ centre and sent me in elliptic rings about it, causing the ground beneath me to vanish and the breath of my lungs to disperse. I was a rock locked in helpless orbit.

There is power in controlling something that can do so much damage-in controlling something, period.

She thinks of her mother, sitting cross-legged, sewing marigolds into garlands for the gods, telling her: "The biggest mistake we make is thinking we are powerless

A lion is stronger than a man, but it does not enable him to dominate the human race. You have neglected the duty you owe to yourselves and you have lost your natural rights by shutting your eyes to your own interests.

Today we live in a society in which spurious realities are manufactured by the media, by governments, by big corporations, by religious groups, political groups... So I ask, in my writing, What is real? Because unceasingly we are bombarded with pseudo-realities manufactured by very sophisticated people using very sophisticated electronic mechanisms. I do not distrust their motives; I distrust their power. They have a lot of it. And it is an astonishing power: that of creating whole universes, universes of the mind. I ought to know. I do the same thing.