It is folly to say you know what is happening to other people. Only they know, if they exist. They have their own Universes of their own eyes and ears.

Generally, old media don't die. They just have to grow old gracefully. Guess what, we still have stone masons. They haven't been the primary purveyors of the written word for a while now of course, but they still have a role because you wouldn't want a TV screen on your headstone.

The argument goes something like this: "I refuse to prove that I exist," says God, "for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.

He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it.

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing noise they make as they go by.

'The difficulty with this conversation,' said Arthur after a sort of pondering look had crawled slowly across his face like a mountaineer negotiating a tricky outcrop, 'is that it's very different from most of the ones I've had of late. Which, as I explained, have mostly been with trees.'

A common mistake that people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools.