I Mean What They And Their Hired

For A Moment She'd Wondered If The Seal Around Her Sockets Were Tight Enough To Allow The Tears Simply To Go On And Fill Up The Entire Lens Space And Never Dry. She Could Carry The Sadness Of The Moment With Her That Way Forever, See The World Refracted Through Those Tears, Those Specific Tears, As If Indices As Yet Unfound Varied In Important Ways From Cry To Cry.

Murphy's Law, That Brash Proletarian Restatement Of Godel's Theorem.

Someday It'll All Be Done By Machine. Information Machines.

Everybody Who Says The Same Words Is The Same Person If The Spectra Are The Same Only They Happen Differently In Time, You Dig? But The Time Is Arbitrary. You Pick Your Zero Point Anywhere You Want, That Way You Can Shuffle Each Person's Time Line Sideways Till They All Coincide.

"you Are So Close." "to Whom? Margravine, Not Even To Himself. This Place, This Island: All His Life He's Done Nothing But Hop From Island To Island. Is That A Reason? Does There Have To Be A Reason? Shall He Tell You: He Works For No Whitehall, Non Conceivable Unless, Ha, Ha, The Network Of White Halls In His Own Brain: These Featureless Corridors He Keeps Swept And Correct For Occasional Visiting Agents."