Quotes About Cyberspace

AI will begin as Artificial Idiocy . Who cares if a computer can play chess or take control of cyberspace? Can it trash Tokyo, huh, huh?

In speaking of a constitution in cyberspace we are simply asking: What values should be protected there? What values should be built into the space to encourage what forms of life?

Liberty in cyberspace will not come from the absence of the state. Liberty there, as anywhere, will come from a state of a certain kind. We build a world where freedom can flourish not by removing from society any self-conscious control, but by setting it in a place where a particular kind of self-conscious control survives. We build liberty as our founders did, by setting society upon a certain constitution.

Welcome to the X-Files meets The Twilight Zone meets the Information Superhighway.

Unsettling signs of al Qaeda's aims and skills in cyberspace have led some government experts to conclude that terrorists are at the threshold of using the Internet as a direct instrument of bloodshed.

In cyberspace, it is becoming increasingly difficult to uphold security for one's own country by sacrificing that of others.

There are a lot of similarities between cyberspace and the frontier. It's pretty raw and primitive. I mean, you have to churn your own butter in cyberspace. You can't go down to the 7-Eleven and buy a stick of butter because it's not that well developed.

We're living in a high-tech world. So much of our stimulus and entertainment comes from things that are quite abstract and disembodied.

National borders aren't even speed bumps on the information superhighway.

That's how it is online—there's no time in cyberspace. It's almost like everything physical evaporates, and it's just your mind and the different sites floating in a void.

By the year 2000, most Americans will be online one way or another.

I never go online. The Internet stuff is bonkers. You must not look at it.

Oh, I'm online all the time now. I'm not an outdoorsy type.

To join in the industrial revolution, you needed to open a factory; in the Internet revolution, you need to open a laptop.

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE 127.0.0.1

I am everywhere and I am nowhere. That's the beauty of the Internet Age.

Cyber void is so full of amazing emptiness that makes us feel fulfilled.

His vision crawled with ghost hieroglyphs, translucent lines of symbols arranging themselves against the neutral backdrop of the bunker wall. He looked at the backs of his hands, saw faint neon molecules crawling beneath the skin, ordered by the unknowable code. He raised his right hand and moved it experimentally. It left a faint, fading trail of strobed afterimages.

To call up a demon you must learn its name. Men dreamed that, once, but now it is real in another way. You know that, Case. Your business is to learn the names of programs, the long formal names, names the owners seek to conceal. True names . . .

And the Flatline aligned the nose of Kuang's sting with the center of the dark below. And dove. Case's sensory input warped with their velocity. His mouth filled with an aching taste of blue. His eyes were eggs of unstable crystal, vibrating with a frequency whose name was rain and the sounds of trains, suddenly sprouting a humming forest of hair-fine spines. The spines split, bisected, split again, exponential growth under the dome of the Tessier-Ashpool ice.

Cyberspace. A consensual hallucination experienced daily by billions of legitimate operators, in every nation, by children being taught mathematical concepts . . . A graphic representation of data abstracted from the banks of every computer in the human system.

Her fingers found a random second stud and she was catapulted through the static wall, into cluttered vastness, the notional void of cyberspace, the bright grid of the matrix ranged around her like an infinite cage.

Cyberspace. A consensual hallucination experienced daily by billions of legitimate operators, in every nation, by children being taught mathematical concepts . . . A graphic representation of data abstracted from the banks of every computer in the human system. Unthinkable complexity. Lines of light ranged in the nonspace of the mind, clusters and constellations of data. Like city lights, receding. . . .

And somewhere he was laughing, in a white-painted loft, distant fingers caressing the deck, tears of release streaking his face.