You will come with us. We are at home with situations of legal ambiguity. The treaties under which our arm of the Registry operates grant us a great deal of flexibility. And we create flexibility, in situations where it is required.
All the speed he took, all the turns he'd taken and the corners he'd cut in Night City, and still he'd see the matrix in his sleep, bright lattices of logic unfolding across that colorless void...
And in the bloodlit dark behind his eyes, silver phosphenes boiled in from the edge of space, hypnagogic images jerking past like a film compiled of random frames. Symbols, figures, faces, a blurred, fragmented mandala of visual information.
His eyes were eggs of unstable crystal, vibrating with a frequency whose name was rain and the sound of trains, suddenly sprouting a humming forest of hair-fine glass spines.
Lost, so small amid that dark, hands grown cold, body image fading down corridors of television sky.
Rain woke him, a slow drizzle, his feet tangled in coils of discarded fiberoptics. The arcade's sea of sound washed over him, receded, returned. Rolling over, he sat up and held his head.
Things aren't different. Things are things.
We monitor many frequencies. We listen always. Came a voice, out of the babel of tongues, speaking to us. It played us a mighty dub.
Why shouldn't we give our teachers a license to obtain software, all software, any software, for nothing? Does anyone demand a licensing fee, each time a child is taught the alphabet?
I don't have to write about the future. For most people, the present is enough like the future to be pretty scary.
The future has already arrived. It's just not evenly distributed yet.
I think that technologies are morally neutral until we apply them. It's only when we use them for good or for evil that they become good or evil.
For years I have been mourning and not for my dead, it is for this boy for whatever corner in my heart died when his childhood slid out of my arms.
I've had a growing frustration, particularly when I would go out and do book tours and interviews. I got frustrated with people asking me, How do you know what the future is going to be like And I'd always say, I don't.
And, for an instant, she stared directly into those soft blue eyes and knew, with an instinctive mammalian certainty, that the exceedingly rich were no longer even remotely human.
The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead station.
Cyberspace was a consensual hallucination that felt and looked like a physical space but actually was a computer-generated construct representing abstract data.
It's impossible to move, to live, to operate at any level without leaving traces, bits, seemingly meaningless fragments of personal information.
I feel the time is right for me to relinquish the reins. It has become increasingly obvious to me that we are meeting and surpassing all the goals we had in mind when we took the company public in 1993.
Cyberspace. A consensual hallucination experienced daily by billions of legitimate operators, in every nation, by children being taught mathematical concepts.
The 'Net is a waste of time, and that's exactly what's right about it.
Dreaming in public is an important part of our job description, as science writers, but there are bad dreams as well as good dreams. We're dreamers, you see, but we're also realists, of a sort.
Generation X is dead. It has come to mean anyone aged 13 to 55 years old.
Time moves in one direction, memory in another.
Language is to the mind more than light is to the eye.
The box was a universe, a poem, frozen on the boundaries of human experience.
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.
It just shows how one person can turn around and exceed his authority and make somebody else's life a living hell.
The future is here. It's just not widely distributed yet.
Ronnie Earle didn't indict him. The grand jury indicted him.
More William Gibson Quotations (Based on Topics)
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