The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
Those are my principles, and if you don't like them... well, I have others.
The real problem is not whether machines think but whether men do.
If we fall, we don't need self-recrimination or blame or anger - we need a reawakening of our intention and a willingness to recommit, to be whole-hearted once again.
Calamities are of two kinds: misfortunes to ourselves, and good fortune to others.
The dead might as well try to speak to the living as the old to the young.
Vanessa didn't like it, but I figured a cop wasn't going to stop for a kid waving his hat in the street, not that day. They just might stop if they saw Darryl bleeding there, though. I argued briefly with her and Darryl settled it by lurching to his feet and dragging himself down toward Market Street.