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" "He prayed for the recovery of that inward privacy which the purpose of his vigil demanded that he seek: a clean parchment of the spirit whereon the words of a summons might be written in his solitude — — if that other Immensurable Loneliness which was God stretched forth Its hand to touch his own tiny human loneliness and to mark his vocation there.
Walter Michael Miller, Jr. (23 January 1923 – 9 January 1996) was an American science fiction writer, most famous for his novel A Canticle for Leibowitz (1959), winner of the 1961 Hugo Award for best novel.
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"Are you an atheist?"
"Oh no, I honor all the gods."
"And how many belong to that all?"
"Countless. And one."
"How meaningless!"
"'Oliness, let me hear you count to one."
"One."
"Point at that one."
Brownpony stirred restlessly. Finally he tapped his index finger against his temple.
Wooshin laughed quietly. "Wrong. You had to think about it too long. And you didn't count to one. You counted from one and stopped. The one is countless."
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Whatever you specialize in, another specialty will either gobble you, or find a way to replace you. If you get what looks like a secure niche, somebody'll come along and wall you up in it and write your epitaph on it. And the more specialized a society gets, the more dangerous it is for the pure specialist. You think an electronic engineer in any safer than an actor? Or a ditch-digger?