It's an ancient technique known as lying, Khouri.

Without risk in our lives, we're scarcely better than machines ourselves.

The human capacity for grief. It just isn't capable of providing an adequate emotional response once the dead exceed a few dozen in number. And it doesn't just level off - it just gives up, resets itself to zero.

Nightside, cities glistened in chains, and a spray of tinkertoy habitats girdled the planet. Gossamer starbridges reached from the equator towards orbit.

Looking at where the planet is now, we could screw things up massively or we could wise-up on a species level and actually make things better. If I had to put my money where my mouth is, I think we'll wise up globally but there will still be outbreaks of local stupidity.

Victory loses its meaning without the memory of what you've vanquished.

The cards always look different when it's your turn to play them; loaded with subtly different possibilities.