It was a way of recognizing places of enchantment: people falling asleep like this.

I find it a huge strain to be responsible for my tastes and be known and defined by them.

It's doubtful that anyone with an internet connection at his workplace is writing good fiction.

Everything he did was at least partial and often total bullshit” (402).

Since our technology is really just an extension of ourselves, we don’t have to have contempt for its manipulability in the way we might with actual people. It’s all one big endless loop. We like the mirror and the mirror likes us. To friend a person is merely to include the person in our private hall of flattering mirrors.

And when the event, the big change in your life, is simply an insight-- isn't that a strange thing? That absolutely nothing changes except that you see things differently and you're less fearful and less anxious and generally stronger as a result: isn't it amazing that a completely invisible thing in your head can feel realer than anything you've experienced before?

For every reader who dies today, a viewer is born, and we seem to be witnessing . . . the final tipping balance.