Truth has this habit of changing after the fact, don’t you find?
But it’s the feeling of love that we love, not the person.
Civilisation’s like the economy or Tinkerbell: If people stop believing it’s real, it dies.
Love is a blurring of pronouns. Love is subject and object. The difference between its presence and its absence is the difference between life and death.
If you don’t fit into the system, the system makes life hell.
Life is a terminal illness.
It’s the edges of the maps that fascinate...
The world’s twenty-seven richest people own more wealth than the poorest five billion, and people accept that as normal.
Time needs time to be measurable.
We – by whom I mean anyone over sixty – commit two offenses just by existing. One is Lack of Velocity. We drive too slowly, walk too slowly, talk too slowly. The world will do business with dictators, perverts, and drug barons of all stripes, but being slowed down it cannot abide. Our second offence is being Everyman’s memento mori. The world can only get comfy in shiny-eyed denial if we are out of sight.
Like the best songs, you can’t see the next line coming, but once it’s sung, how else could it have gone?
Books’ll be back,” Esther-in-Unalaq predicts. “Wait till the power grids start failing in the 2030s and the datavats get erased. It’s not far away. The future looks a lot like the past.
Coffee’s the elixir of life.
At certain rare moments, a library is a kind of mind.
I feel sad that I found what I searched for, but no longer want what I found.
Not a clue – and, no, I don’t touch drugs. The world’s unstable enough without scrambling your brain for kicks.
Life’s more science-fictiony by the day.
Remember: What Cupid gives, Cupid takes away.
I’m not in the Scouts any more,’ I remind her. Mr Moody our scoutmaster told me to get lost, so I did, and it took the Snowdonia mountain rescue service two days to find my shelter.
Grief is the bill of love, fallen due.