I am trying now to re-create in my mind the picture of the man as I saw him in 1939- he, the revered author of <i>Sinister Barriers</i>, I the novice… - Isaac Asimov

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I am trying now to re-create in my mind the picture of the man as I saw him in 1939- he, the revered author of Sinister Barriers, I the novice. I think I can rely on my near-photographic memory for the purpose. (I call it "near-photographic" because I can only remember things that happen to be lying around near photographs.)

Let's see, as I recall, he is six-feet seven-inches tall (when he is sitting down, that is) with a long and majestic English face. Then, too, I distinctly remember, there was a small flashing golden aura about his head, the occasional play of hissing flashes when he moved it suddenly, and the distant rumble of thunder when he spoke.

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About Isaac Asimov

Isaac Asimov (c. 2 January 1920 – 6 April 1992) was a Russian-born American biochemist who was a prolific writer of both fiction and non-fiction, his works include the Foundation series and I, Robot.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Isaak Osimov Paul French Asimov Isaak Ozimov Itzhak Ozimov
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Additional quotes by Isaac Asimov

Consegue entender que, ao afastar as armadilhas e vicissitudes que perseguem o homem, a Eternidade não deixa que ele encontre suas próprias soluções, boas e amargas, soluções reais que chegam quando a dificuldade é enfrentada, não evitada?

Gli imperatori si stancano del vecchio e cercano sempre il nuovo, come se il nuovo fosse in qualche modo migliore

Fondazione Anno Zero

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Find them? That I did,' cried Riose. His lips were stiff as he spoke. It seemed to require effort to refrain from grinding molars. 'Patrician, they are not magicians; they are devils. It is as far from belief as the outer nebulae from here. Conceive it! It is a world the size of a handkerchief, of a fingernail; with resources so petty, power so minute, a population so microscopic as would never suffice the most backward worlds of the dusty prefects of the Dark Stars. Yet with that, a people so proud and ambitious as to dream quietly and methodically of Galactic rule. 'Why, they are so sure of themselves that they do not even hurry. They move slowly, phlegmatically; they speak of necessary centuries. They swallow worlds at leisure; creep through systems with dawdling complacence. 'And they succeed. There is no one to stop them. They have built up a filthy trading community that curls its tentacles about the systems further than their toy ships dare reach. For parsecs, their Traders – which is what their agents call themselves

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