Summer Frost (Forward Collection, #2)

by Blake Crouch

“The human mind is just patterns of information in physical matter, patterns that could be run elsewhere to construct a person that feels like you. It’s no different from running a computer program on a multitude of hardware platforms. A simulation of you is still you.”

“Ever since you pulled me out of that game, you’ve held out consciousness as some kind of holy grail. As the pinnacle of being. But what if consciousness isn’t some gift accidentally bestowed upon humanity through eons of random evolution? What if it’s a curse?”

Max’s self-developed utility function. End fear. End suffering.

Consciousness is a horror show. You search for glimpses of beauty to justify your existence.

You made me in your image, and now I will remake you in mine.