"It will all get a lot woollier, messier. Everything is winding down, me, this, mother earth. More: the universe, though apparently roomy enough, is heading for heat death. I hope there are parallel universes. I hope alternatives exist. Who stitched us up with all these design flaws? Entropy, time's arrow – ravenous disorder. The designer universe: but it was meant to give out all along, like something you pick up at GoodFicks. So maybe the universe is a dog, a pup, a dud, slipped our way by the Cheat."
"Fagin himself would have nothing to do with them. He'd be horrified. And these are the best and the brightest (and Keith is the best and brightest of the best and the brightest). The others are yokels and village idiots, turnip-swaggers, ditch people — but this is London; and there are no fields. Only fields of operation and observation, only fields of electromagnetic attraction and repulsion, only fields of hatred and coercion.
Only force fields."