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“I have no theory to explain why you couldn’t do that, Captain. I won’t presume to have one, either. I can only say what it was probably not. Do you find that disagreeable?”
London was steaming. The accretion in implements, machines, and iron constructions grew daily.
It could always calculate only what can be found out in response to “leading questions”—to questions, in other words, that could be answered only by yes or no.
“Your machine can’t be amazed and can’t be confused; so it can’t discover anything alien to itself. Do you know the painter Westall?”
“For a sailor you think pretty fast,” he said in a subdued voice.
Jane spurred him on. “Too slow? Not anymore! Look around: you move at exactly the same speed as all important people when they move among more or less unimportant ones!
“A miscreant,” said her father, “doesn’t know his own correct speed. He’s too slow on the wrong occasions and too fast on the wrong occasions as well.”
Lately she had put it in her head to learn about slowness.
stylus of nature.” A little farther
John felt as though he were stepping through a wall out into the open.
Sailing a thousand miles, then waiting eight months in ice, then sailing a few hundred miles, then waiting again—every concept of slowness would soon take leave of these people.
