Sublime

But he has made her happy in the only place where people really live, the few-second-wide window of Now.

The colony possesses something; Adam doesn’t know what to call it. Purpose. Will. A kind of awareness—something so different from human intelligence that intelligence thinks it’s nothing.

We seem to believe it is possible to ward off death by following rules of good grooming.

His farewell to a species turning from animal into data.

All around her spreads one single male whose genetically identical trunks cover more than a hundred acres. The thing is outlandish, beyond her ability to wrap her head around. But

Oak.

The confirmation of others: a sickness the entire race will die of.