A weird time in which we are alive. We can travel anywhere we want, even to other planets. And for what? To sit day after day, declining in morale and hope.

How can days and happenings and moments so good become so quickly ugly, and for no reason, for no real reason? Just - change. With nothing causing it.

"Do you have information that there's an android in the cast? I'd be glad to help you, and if I were an android would I be glad to help you?" "An android," he said, "doesn't care what happens to another android. That's one of the indications we look for." "Then," Miss Luft said, "you must be an android."

How can justice fall victim, ever, to what is right?

In a nutshell-I fear authority but at the same time I resent it-the authority and my own fear. So I rebel.

Each of us assumes everyone else knows what he is doing. They all assume we know what we are doing. We don't.

How undisturbed, the sleep of the foolish.