I quite liked this little philosophical bit from Hyperion by Dan Simmons, a Distraction I finished recently:
It might be argued that the Siamese twin infants of word/idea are the only contribution the human species can, will, or should make to the raveling cosmos. (...Yes we weave real-fabric things from the dreamstuff of mathematics, but the universe is hardwired with arithmetic. Scratch a circle and π peeps out. Enter a new solar system and Tycho Brahe's formulae lie waiting under the black velvet cloak of space/time. But where has the universe hidden a word under its outer layer of biology, geometry, or insensate rock?)
I hope to have a few more thoughts on this delicious Distraction soon.
A Year of Books that are Older than Me
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