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I'm really starting to hate this book. :-/

That detestable man was one of those men who are the price a civilization pays in its decay for the achievements of its prime.

And then the door from the street was flung open and a new group of plainsmen came in from the dazzling sunlight with their afternoon's work done and settled themselves at the bar to resume their lifelong task of shaping from uneventful days in a flat landscape the substance of myth.

“Each day we must relax a little more.”

Capitalism has grooved society with a number of deep slots along which human beings can roll to a fixed destination. When a man takes charge of a factory the factory takes charge of him. So long as he obeys the general trend he will not meet any obvious disaster; but he may be unable to meet the calls that daily life makes on judgment and initiative. He has plainly a special talent for obedience.

Does color exist? "A male guppy looking for a mate doesn't worry about whether color exists," he says. "A male guppy only cares about being orange, in order to attract one." But can it really be said that the guppy cares about being orange? I ask. "No," he admits. "The male guppy simply is orange." Why orange? I ask. He shrugs. "In the face of some questions," he says, "biologists can only vacate the field."