The Three Theorems of Psychohistorical Quantitivity:
The population under scrutiny is oblivious to the existence of the science of Psychohistory.
The time periods dealt with are in the region of 3 generations.
The population must be in the billions (±75 billions) for a statistical probability to have a psychohistorical validity.
Perhaps I’m old and tired, but I think that the chances of finding out what’s actually going on are so absurdly remote that the only thing to do is to say, “Hang the sense of it,” and keep yourself busy. I’d much rather be happy than right any day.
You can have ice cream if you win. With sprinkles!
Anton’s natural daughter broke off for a moment, shoveling food into her mouth at a rate Anton was certain was anatomically impossible. There had to be a demon residing somewhere in the girl’s belly.
Helen’s metabolism was a little scary. At the age of fourteen, she’d been on the smallish size. Four years later, she was already over a hundred and seventy-five centimeters tall and still probably hadn’t reached her full adult size.
If there’s one thing we know the boy can do, it’s eat!
“I wouldn’t. You know the rules about crossing species. Stick with the list.”
“What are you, a bigot or something?”
“No. But obviously you’ve never met an Arnassian before. After they finish, they eat their mate.”
Sister Louella cut him off with a screech of outrage.
Then you’re not as wise as the stories would say. The picture is far bigger than you would imagine. The whole universe is in outrage, Doctor. Twenty-four worlds have been taken from the sky.
“It is not yet time.”
“And who decides that time? You? You put me in this position. You asked me to fight this damn war! Well, it’s about time you let me fight it my way! How many people have already died fighting this war of yours, huh? How many more will die before you come down off that mountain and get involved? Ships, colonies, whole worlds are being destroyed out there, and you do nothing! How many more? How many more, Kosh? How many more dead before you’re satisfied? Huh?”
“I will do as you ask. But there is a price to pay. I will not be there to help you when you go to Z’ha’dum.”
“G’Quan wrote: ‘There is a greater darkness than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers and principalities, it is against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender. The future is all around us, waiting in moments of transition, to be born in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future, or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain.’”
Matt here made a common mistake in assuming my nervous system was as primit–ahem, as centralized as yours. Really, putting a bullet through my face was as life-threatening as, say, cutting off a finger.
“Stop. You’re hurting my brain.”
“Isn’t your brain distributed throughout your entire body?”
“See why I want you to stop with the doublethink?”
“We made a mistake, I’m sorry. Here, open my wrists.”
“Centauri don’t have major arteries in their wrists.”
“Of course not! What, do you think I am stupid?”
You don’t like it, you can kiss my furry little butt!
Well, if a Little Fuzzy finds a door open, I’d like to know why he shouldn’t come in and look around.
I want these off the ship. I don’t care if takes every man we’ve got, I want them off the ship.
Maxim #8: Mockery and derision have their place. Usually, it’s on the far side of the airlock
Dave Bowman: Open the pod bay doors, HAL.
HAL: I’m sorry, Dave. I’m afraid I can’t do that.
“Oh yes, I thought of something,” panted Ford.
Arthur looked up expectantly.
“But unfortunately,” continued Ford, “it rather involved being on the other side of this airtight hatchway.”
Cassie tried to think. Stay calm. Don’t panic.