Sometimes ... dreams are all that separate us from the machines.

Human beings have only that confusing mass of chemically driven neurological storage to rely on. They're all subjective and emotion-tinged. How can they trust any of their memories?

As long as my sixth graders showed an average improvement of five years, the principal and district pretty much left me alone to create my own curriculum and teach whatever I wanted

It no longer matters who consider themselves the masters of events. Events no longer obey their masters.

Sometimes ... dreams are all that separate us from the machines.

In twentieth-century Old Earth, a fast food chain took dead cow meat, fried it in grease, added carcinogens, wrapped it in petroleum-based foam, and sold nine hundred billion units. Human beings. Go figure.

The love of violence is an aspect of our humanity. Even the weak wish to be strong primarily so they can wield the whip.