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'I don’t trust you.''Of course you don’t. I know I wouldn’t. And I’m not asking you to. I’m not putting you in a situation in which your trust of me is even remotely relevant. I’m just pointing a gun to your head and giving you orders.'
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We don’t aspire to genetic unity, no matter what your propagandists think. The pursuit of optima leads only to local minima. We honour our errors. We actively seek persistent disequilibrium.
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'Is he dead?' Irravel asked.'Depends what you mean by dead.'
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'But of course, you don’t believe in the existence of sin, do you?''I believe in the existence of reckless stupidity,' Rashmika replied.
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Grafenwalder shoots a sidelong glance at Ursula Goodglass, wondering what their marriage must be like. Clearly sex isn’t in the cards, but he doubts that it was ever the main interest in their lives. Games, especially those of prestige and subterfuge, are amongst the chief entertainments of the Rust Belt moneyed.
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Pretty smart piece of thinkware by all accounts: full Turing compliance; about as clever as you can make a machine before you have to start giving it human rights.
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Clavain had been a soldier. He had killed more people than he could remember, even though those days had been a long time ago. It was really a lot less difficult to do when you had a cause to believe in.
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Volyova did not like planets at the best of times, and gas giants struck her as an unreasonable affront to human scale and frailty. In that respect, they were almost as bad as stars.
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She must have walked through life with men like him falling at her feet, squashing them underfoot like autumn leaves. It probably happened so often that all she noticed was that nice crunching sound.
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I guess I’ll do what everyone else does: get on with my life and forget the big questions.
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'Only trying to make conversation, friend.''Don’t bother-it’s an overrated activity at the best of times.'
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This gets better, it really does. The odd thing is, I actually think you might be telling the truth. If you were going to lie, you’d at least come up with something that made sense.
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Is this a personal grudge or are you just psychotic?
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You’ve been good to me, Inigo. But I really am like the weather. You can admire me, even love me, in your way, but I can’t love you back. To me you’re like a photograph. I can see right through you, examine you from all angles. You amuse me. But you don’t have enough depth ever to fascinate me.
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Why was it never good news that put problems into perspective? Why did it always take another set of problems?
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Either you are a man of unusual ability, Thorn, or a man with a rather inadequate grasp of human nature. I just hope it’s the former.
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She had almost dared ask, but was perhaps too fearful of hearing something she could not refute.
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'Nothing he said indicated that he was that angry. I mean, there’s a difference between angry and murderous. Isn’t there?''Less than you’d think.'
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'I imagine you feel insignificant,' Sajaki said, almost as if he had been listening in on the conversation. 'Well; you’re justified in feeling that way. You are insignificant. That’s the majesty of this place. Would you choose it any other way?'
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'It’s all in the fine print. You should read it sometime.''When I’m gripped by existential boredom,' Khouri said, 'I might try it.'
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He’s not really a religious man, but he knows which side his bread’s buttered on. The churches pay his salary, so he doesn’t want anyone rocking the boat with unorthodox rumours.
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Naqi suspected that the ability to turn drunkenness on and off like a switch must be one of the most hallowed of diplomatic skills.
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'Is there anyone in Chasm City she hasn’t deceived?''Possibly, somewhere, but only as an extreme theoretical possibility.'
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'I don’t know.' That was typical Sajaki; like all the genuinely clever people Sylveste had met he knew better than to feign understanding where none existed.