Yes, and imagine a world where there were no hypothetical situations.

Almost anything can be improved with the addition of bacon.

If the real world were a book, it would never find a publisher. Overlong, detailed to the point of distraction-and ultimately, without a major resolution.

Words are like leaves,. . .like people really, fond of their own society.

Apart from the faint odor of ink that pervaded the scene, it might have been real.

Without unscrambled eggs, there was no time travel, no more depredation of the Now, and we could look to a brighter future of long-term thought--and more reading.

Everything comes to an end. A good bottle of wine, a summer’s day, a long-running sitcom, one’s life, and eventually our species. The question for many of us is not that everything will come to an end but when. And can we do anything vaguely useful until it does?