Quotes from William Gibson

True that you've got your own whole other body, up there?" "More or less. Somebody built it, but you couldn't tell." "True that you've got your own whole other body, up there?" "More or less. Somebody built it, but you couldn't tell." "Look like you?" "No," Flynne said, "prettier and tittier." "Go on," Clovis said, pull the other one.

His eyes were eggs of unstable crystal, vibrating with a frequency whose name was rain and the sound of trains

If God made anything better, he kept it for himself.

You can always sell tools," Skinner had mused, perhaps to Yamazaki, perhaps to himself. "Somebody'll always buy 'em. But then you always need 'em again, exactly the one you sold.

media'?" "I guess so." "It was an artifact of relatively low connectivity.

Un futuro invadido por microprocesadores, en el que la información es la materia prima.

it's somehow gone sideways in a puff of what we today would call globalization, to be replaced by some less dangerous combine of large corporations and city-states.

nation," he heard himself say, "consists of its laws. A nation does not consist of its situation at a given time. If an individual's morals are situational, that individual is without morals. If a nation's laws are situational, that nation has no laws, and soon isn't a nation.

The Chinese virus has completely penetrated the fabric of the Hosaka. There's nothing in the Hosaka but virus now.

Look like you've come up short on the number of fucks you need to not give

Ash," said Lowbeer, fingers extended around the candle as if for warmth, "imagines you a conservative." "Does she?" "Or a romantic, perhaps. She sees your distaste for the present rooted in the sense of a fall from grace. That some prior order, or perhaps the lack of one, afforded a more authentic existence.

You're a publicist," she said. "She's a celebrity. That's interspecies.

Toughness has been rather out of fashion, as a masculine virtue, and Takeshi simultaneously radiates it and suggests its wounded core. There can in fact be no depiction of genuine toughness (not brutality but a sort of excess of substance, of soul-stuff) without this concomitant indication of that wound, else the piece becomes simply the pornography of fascism.

On the final day of 1999, an immaculately suited Jesus and a Bukowskiesque Devil warily circle each other through a series of sleazy bars and chilly law offices, trying to cut a deal that centers on Christ's PowerBook. This contains the biblical Seventh Seal: Unlock the file and the Judgment Day program will launch, and then all hell will break loose.

Measure twice, cut once

Shit," she said, small hand gesturing to encompass their situation. "Lots of it. Now. Hitting many fans. Large ones.

The result of hybridization of two lines of military research. One toward uploading aspects of human consciousness, the other toward an expert system focused on a particular sort of warfare.

The sky above the port was the colour of television, tuned to a dead channel.

She wore loose black silks and black espadrilles. `I'm an exotic. I got a big straw hat for this, too. You, you just wanna look like a cheap-ass hood who's up for what he can get, so the instant tan's okay.

Netherton said nothing, something he'd only recently been learning to deliberately do.

Coretti didn't know how to dress. Clothing was a language and Coretti a kind of sartorial stutterer, unable to make the kind of basic coherent fashion statement that would put strangers at their ease. His ex-wife told him he dressed like a Martian; that he didn't look as though he belonged anywhere in the city. He hadn't liked her saying that, because it was true.

subgenres are products of the writers' urgent necessity to avoid tangling with a realistic

Angie called pause again, rose from the bed, went to the window. She felt an elation, an unexpected sense of strength and inner unity.

People smoke, and drink as though it were good for you, and seem to still be in some sort of honeymoon phase with cocaine.