“Don’t you have a religion?” Dorolow asked Horza.”Yes,” he replied, not taking his eyes away from the screen on the wall above the end of the main mess-room table. “My survival.””So… your religion dies with you. How sad,” Dorolow said, looking back from Horza to the screen. The Changer let the remark pass.”

“what passed for useful information sharing within an organization was really just bureaucratic phatic of people protecting their position, looking for praise, projecting criticism, setting up positions of non-responsibility for upcoming failures and calamities, that were both entirely predictable, but seemingly completely unavoidable and telling each other what they all already knew. The trick was to be able to reengage quickly and seamlessly without allowing anyone to know that you stopped listening properly, shortly after the speaker had first opened their mouth.”

“We are wasting time.Time wastes itself. Who are we to float in its way?”