“«Once, I went to this little meeting of Microsoft kids. Like, this high-school trip thing, but it was very exclusive. We met the world’s greatest Futurist there. Dr Gustav Y. Svante. Nobody knows who he is. That’s why he’s the world’s greatest Futurist. He told us... He said that the future was already here, but nobody listens to the future. The future is all around us, but we don’t see the future yet. We don’t hear it or see it, so we can’t tell it.”»”

“People have faces. […] Spirits don’t have faces. And yet we recognise them. We know who is who. Spirits don’t have eyes or mouths or ears either. And yet they can see and speak and hear. […] The spirits are all around us. […] They’re right here, but we can’t see them.”

“What He said He would do He always did, and the things we already see fulfilled in His Word simply remind us that what He said about the future will take place just as surely.”

“We can stop pleading with God to show us the future, and start living and obeying like we are confident that He holds the future.”

“..I met two young guys from the Oregon National Guard... The lieutenant told me about their temporary barracks in an old neighborhood high school. He told me that he was disgusted that kids ever went to school there, and that in Oregon the place would have been bulldozed and rebuilt so that kids could have a proper place to learn. He seemed troubled that all of this was happening in America. He realized that many of the problems he was seeing in New Orleans existed before the storm, and he wanted to know why people had put up with it and why they hadn't voted out of office the people who had let this happen. I told him I didn't know, but maybe we could change things in New Orleans in the future. He seemed hopeful. I felt less certain.”

“But we, with our dreaming and singing,Ceaseless and sorrowless we!The glory about us clingingOf the glorious futures we see,Our souls with high music ringing:O men! it must ever beThat we dwell, in our dreaming and singing,A little apart from ye.We are afar with the dawningAnd the suns that are not yet high,And out of the infinite morningIntrepid you hear us cry —How, spite of your human scorning,Once more God's future draws nigh,And already goes forth the warningThat ye of the past must die.Great hail! we cry to the comersFrom the dazzling unknown shore;Bring us hither your sun and your summers;And renew our world as of yore;You shall teach us your song's new numbers,And things that we dreamed not before:Yea, in spite of a dreamer who slumbers,And a singer who sings no more.”