Writing is tough…
but sometimes you get those little kernels of gold and you can’t help but go “Wow, that came out of me?” Like if your stool was in the perfect shape of a dinosaur or something.
Bayard Fearghas:
“The Box can make a toy or a building with a single directive. Why, then, can it not make paradise? What directive must I feed it to invent the perfect planet?”
“They gave me a position that was entirely symbolic and in twenty years I’ve turned it into the impetus we need.”
“Do you regret anything, Mr. Leung? Let me rephrase: Is there anything the public might regret on your behalf?”
William Cheshire:
“In my life I lend my attention to no more than two numbers: the year, and the hours it’s been since I last used the restroom. Notice that my age is not included in that admittedly sparse list. I give special non-attention to that.”
“You can’t spell immortality without immorality, and then you need only add a cross.”
“It is strange, the nature of organic life. You feel an intimate connection with the organisms next to you. And here It stands gazing upon Its own heart. Might It ever be called alive? Might you ever be called invented?”
Lance Deston:
“When a human leaves the womb its brain has innate, seamless connections with the rest of the body. It controls every function, moderates every toxin, calculates every breath and heartbeat… and yet, despite its capacity for knowledge, it is not born knowing how it functions. It has self-awareness but lacks narrative, comprehension. It can’t be intimate with itself. This matrix in the backdrop of cognition is what separates us from machines. But what if, all along, it has been our one greatest weakness?”
Everyone gets at least one chance to fuck up their lives forever. Meg Acacia had proven herself particularly adept at pinpointing these moments and expounding on them for maximum fucked uppedness.
The 202 Line to Suffolk streaked across the blue surface of England, cutting deep into the old scar where the seat of global power had been dissected and reassembled in an act of political surgery.
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