Why, he wondered, did so many people spend their lives not trying to find answers to questions—not even thinking of questions to begin with? Was ther… - Isaac Asimov

The snow had ceased, but it caked the ground deeply now and the sleek ground car advanced through the deserted streets with lumbering effort. The murky gray light of incipient dawn was cold not only in the poetical sense but also in a very literal way — and even in the then turbulent state of the Foundation's politics, no one, whether Actionist or pro-Hardin, found his spirits sufficiently ardent to begin street activity that early. Yohan Lee did not like that and his grumblings grew audible. "It's going to look bad, Hardin. They're going to say you sneaked away." "Let them say it if they wish. I've got to get to Anacreon and I want to do it without trouble. Now that's enough, Lee." Hardin leaned back into the cushioned seat and shivered slightly. It wasn't cold inside the well-heated car, but there was something frigid about a snow-covered world, even through glass, that annoyed him. He said, reflectively, "Some day when we get around

Confidence is rewarded, apparently. There was a homewhen proverb that went, "Grip the nettle firmly and it will become a stick with which to beat your enemy."

In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate.