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" "He sat and watched them come and he thought of going in to get a rifle, but he didn’t stir from his seat upon the steps. The rifle would do no good, he told himself. It would be a senseless thing to get it; more than that, a senseless attitude. The least that man could do, he thought, was to meet these creatures of another world with clean and empty hands.
Clifford Donald Simak (3 August 1904 – 25 April 1988) was an American science fiction writer, and a winner of several Hugo and Nebula awards.
Biography information from Wikiquote
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That had not been the first time nor had it been the last, but all the years of killing boiled down in essence to that single moment — not the time that came after, but that long and terrible instant when he had watched the lines of men purposefully striding up the slope to kill him. It had been in that moment that he had realized the insanity of war, the futile gesture that in time became all but meaningless, the unreasoning rage that must be nursed long beyond the memory of the incident that had caused the rage, the sheer illogic that one man, by death or misery, might prove a right or uphold a principle. Somewhere, he thought, on the long backtrack of history, the human race had accepted an insanity for a principle and had persisted in it until today that insanity-turned-principle stood ready to wipe out, if not the race itself, at least all of those things, both material and immaterial, that had been fashioned as symbols of humanity through many hard-won centuries.
Our computers have no purpose. They are not alive.” “But if they were alive?” “Well, in that case, I suppose the ultimate purpose would be the storage of a universal data and its correlation.” “That perhaps is right,” they said. “We are living computers.” “Then there is no end for you. You’ll keep on forever.” “We are not sure,” they said. “But …” “Data,” they told me, pontifically, “is the means to one end only — arrival at the truth. Perhaps we do not need universal data to arrive at truth.
Ulysses, he thought, had not told him all the truth about the Talisman. He had told him that it had disappeared and that the galaxy was without it, but he had not told him that for many years its power and glory had been dimmed by the failure of its custodian to provide linkage between the people and the force. And all that time the corrosion occasioned by that failure had eaten away at the bonds of the galactic cofraternity.