Even when all the worlds have frozen or exploded, and all the suns gone dead and cold, there'll still be… — Olaf Stapledon

Of course I don't want the old religious dope. But I don't want just the new science dope either. I want the truth.

I, at any rate, acknowledge only one master, not forty-five million two-legged sheep, or two thousand million, but simply and absolutely the spirit.

I paced up and down the little room, a queer thing happened. It was as though my wandering imagination came upon a new quality, different from all that I had ever known; yet one which was also more familiar and intimate than the smell of Plaxy in the mood of love, more piercing sweet than bitches, more hunt-worthy than the trail of a fox.