“Do you remember that sketch you gave me?” he asked. “Yes,” I said—neutrally, this time. “I think it’s a weapon. I think it’s a weapon that doesn’t exist yet, except it’s here. And—I’m pretty sure I’ve seen what it does. It is. Fucking awful.”

Ideas are frictional, factional entities which wilt when pinned to flowcharts. Ideas have to cause problems before they cause solutions.

Nothing exposes the seams of a group faster than the fraught world of care.

know you don’t believe me,” he said quickly. “I wouldn’t either. But I can prove it. This project isn’t about scientific advancement. It’s about a weapon.” The idea that the Ministry were operating aboveboard was simply silly to me—progress is not achieved by coloring inside the lines—but it struck me that Quentin was a risk to the bridge–expat env

“The women of this era have a certain constant cast,” said Cardingham. “Perhaps it is the ‘chemicals’ i’th’water. I have heard the ruling powers do filter in such poisons as emasculate men and pacify the weak. Perhaps they clone the womenfolk.”

You can’t trauma-proof life, and you can’t hurt-proof your relationships.

if you try. You will have hope, and you have been forgiven. Forgiveness, which takes you back to the person you were and lets you reset them. Hope, which exists in a future in which you are new. Forgiveness and hope are miracles. They let you change your life. They are time-travel.

He was one of those unusual extroverts who have all the attributes of an introvert, save that they like being around other people.

I know how much you’ve longed for your future to lean down and cup your face, to whisper “Don’t worry, it gets better.”