Stars, everywhere. So many stars that I could not for the life me understand how the sky could contain them all yet be so black.

If believing absurd falsehoods increase the odds of getting laid or avoiding predators, your brain will believe those falsehoods with all its metaphorical little heart.

Are you kidding? That's the music of the spheres, commissar. It's beautiful. Like old jazz.

I really wanted to talk to her. I just couldn't find an algorithm that fit.

There's no such things as survival of the fittest. Survival of the most adequate, maybe. It doesn't matter whether a solution's optimal. All that matters is whether it beats the alternative.

I am the bridge between the bleeding edge and the dead center. I stand between the Wizard of Oz and the man behind the curtain. I am the curtain.

You are. I'm just fatalistically cheerful. We all come into the story halfway through, we all catch up as best we can, and we're all gonna die before it ends.