‘Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time—’ That’s the sort of thing she would have written before the ri… - Frederik Pohl

He wasn’t very confident of analysis as a solution to his problem; despite three centuries, the technique of mental health had never evolved a rigorous proof system, and Cornut was innately skeptical of whatever was not susceptible of mathematical analysis.

Even money, thought Roger on the way back to his own office, is not a bad bet. Of course, it depends on the stakes.

Is there any of me, or of any of us, that isn’t just consequence?
I think, and I’ve thought it over a lot, that everything that ever happened keeps on happening, extending tendrils of itself endlessly into the moving present tense of time, porducing its echoes, and explosions and extinctions forever.