Fritz Leiber (1910 – 1992)
American writer of fantasy, horror and science fiction.
There was always something new to be seen in the unchanging night sky.
Not for the first time Richard reflected that this age’s vaunted ‘communications industry’ had chiefly provided people and nations with the means of frightening to death and simultaneously boring to extinction themselves and each other.
I know only too well from a personal experience that is number one on my list of things to be forgotten.
It was always worth everything to get away by himself, climb a bit, and study the heavens.
There was an omnipresent sense of crisis.
Now is a bearable burden. What buckles the back is the added weight of the past’s mistakes and the future’s fears.
The Devourers want to brood about their great service to the many universes—it is their claim that servile customers make the most obedient subjects for the gods.
What was life worth, anyway, if you had to sit around remembering not to mention this, that, and the other thing because someone else might be upset?
Thoughts are dangerous, he told himself, and thoughts against all science, all sanity, all civilized intelligence, are the most dangerous of all.
A scientist ought to have a healthy disregard for coincidences.
The greater the variety of intelligent life Don saw, the more he became sensitive to its presence.
Sometimes I wonder if our memories are as good as we think they are and if the whole past wasn’t once entirely different from anything we remember, and we’ve forgotten that we forgot.