Deon Beckelhimer

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A.R. Merrydew
“The concept and subsequent development of these JEN2 successors to the old machines, was a story in its own right. It was also one marred with frustration, hidden agendas and ultimately punctuated with a sad human tragedy.”
A.R. Merrydew, The Girl with the Porcelain Lips

Todor Bombov
“Let’s get to know each other. My name’s William, William More, but you can call me Willy. I’m an engineer-chemist who graduated from MIT. So . . . but you’re all alike to me . . . of course, you would be . . . you’re robots. And all your names are that sort of, um . . . codes, technical numbers . . . I need some marker where I can pick you out. Well, well, to you I’ll call . . .,” and Willy pondered for a moment, “Gumball, yes, Gumball! Do you mind?” “No, sir, actually no,” CSE-TR-03 said, agreeing with its new given name. “Ah, that’s wonderful. And then you’re Darwin,” Willy said, accosting the second robot. “Look what a nice name—Darwin! What do you say, eh?” “What can I say, sir? I like it,” CSE-TR-02 agreed too. “Yes, a human name with a past . . . You and Gumball . . . are from the same family, the Methanesons!” “It turns out thus, sir,” Darwin confirmed its family belonging. “And you’re like Larry. You’re Larry. Do you know that?” More addressed the next robot in line. “Yes, sir, just now I learned that,” the third robot said, accepted its name as well.”
Todor Bombov, Homo Cosmicus 2: Titan: A Science Fiction Novel

Ernesto Che Guevara
“American capitalism replaced some of the old colonial capitalisms in the countries that began their independent life. But it knows that this is transitory and that there is no real security for its financial speculation in these new territories. The octopus cannot there apply its suckers firmly. The claw of the imperial eagle is trimmed. Colonialism is dead or is dying a natural death in all these places.”
Che Guevara

“Love...I put so much faith in it.
Truth...I kept believing it falls always from the top lips of the one you love and trust the most.
Faith...it's all bound up to love and trust. Where does one end and the other start, and how do you tell when love is the blindest of all?”
V.C. Andrews, Flowers in the Attic

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