“Everything looks so different.”
“Yes, but we mostly live within a cloud.”
“Horatio doesn’t.”
Marvin was silent.
“I guess you think there isn’t any more Horatio.”
“I don’t know.”
The blue of the vapor shut them in, now luminous with reflected charges, now suffused with faint saffron. For the moment they lived in heavenly isolation, a world without passion or poison, where the marriage of true minds is unimpeded.
“Do you think it’s impossible for Horatio to think?”
“No, he may think better than we do. Brains are not much good to think with—they’re too much like electric burglar alarms.”
“Do you think Horatio sees?”