Tim Powers Is A Brilliant Writer.

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.

Enlightenment Is "being," And It Grows; It's End Is Serenity.

'cyberspace' As A Term Is Sort Of Over. It's Over In The Way That, After A Certain Time, People Stopped Using The Suffix '-electro' To Make Things Cool, Because Everything Was Electrical. 'electro' Was All Over The Early 20th Century, And Now It's Gone. I Think 'cyber' Is Sort Of The Same Way.

The Past Is Past, The Future Unformed. There Is Only The Moment, And That Is Where He Prefers To Be.

Lost, So Small Amid That Dark, Hands Grown Cold, Body Image Fading Down Corridors Of Television Sky.