When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossib… - Arthur C. Clarke

It was very pleasant to be loved, but it had its disadvantages if one stopped to look beyond the immediate moment. For a fleeting instant Yradne wondered if she had been fair to Jon, to Brant—even to herself. One day the decision would have to be made; it could not be postponed forever. Yet she could not for the life of her decide which of the boys she liked the better; and she did not know if she loved either. No one had ever told her, and she had not yet discovered, that when one has to ask “Am I really in love?” the answer is always “No”.

“Censorship does raise some very difficult problems, doesn’t it? I’ve always argued that there’s an inverse correlation between a country’s degree of civilisation and the restraints it puts on its press.” A New English voice from the back of the room cut in: “On that argument, Paris is a more civilised place than Boston.” “Precisely,” answered Purvis. For once, he waited for a reply. “OK,” said the New England voice mildly. “I’m not arguing. I just wanted to check.”

It was the end of civilization, the end of all that men had striven for since the beginning of time. In the space of a few days, humanity had lost its future, for the heart of any race is destroyed, and its will to survive is utterly broken, when its children are taken from it.