It was the dawn of the third age of mankind.

The future is all around us, waiting, in moments of transition, to be born in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain.

The sky was full of stars, and every star an exploding ship.

We know that if memory is destroyed in one part of the brain, it can be sometimes re-created on a different part of the brain. And once we can unravel that amino chain of chemicals that is responsible for memory, I see no reason why we can't unlock it and, essentially, wipe out what's there.

A changeling is one child substituted for another. I couldn't find anything more apt. We had to kind of fight that supernatural element in the publicity, and I offered to try and find another title, but Clint liked it, and it stayed.

Science fiction shows are traditionally about the gimmick or the gadget and tend to be emotionally cool to the touch.

Wouldn't it be much worse if life really were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us happen because we really deserve them?