Don't bother explaining--I've heard all the excuses and the trouble is most of them are true.

As its best, SF is the medium in which our miserable certainty that tomorrow will be different from today in ways we cant predict, can be transmuted to a sense of excitement and anticipation, occasionally evolving into awe. Poised between intransigent scepticism and uncritical credulity, it is par excellence the literature of the open mind.

It's common platitude that knowledge is neutral but every now and then it would be useful if it were on your side and not theirs.

It's supposed to be automatic but actually you have to press this button.

What in Gods name is it worth to be human, if we have to be saved from ourselves by a machine?

"Pay him what was promised", said the caliph. "And put out his eyes."

Love and joy are incredibly habit-forming; often a single exposure is enough to cause permanent addiction.