R. R. Winterbotham

“ That energy goes out into space, loses velocity and becomes matter, matter forms suns. Maybe life is part of the merry-go-round. Maybe energy makes matter, life results from matter; life produces a little energy."
"We're generators, huh?"
"Not exactly. Did you ever study a dynamo, Oakey? It doesn't make energy, it converts one form into another form, the stuff we call electricity. But it seems to do it intelligently. Supposing your generator makes a kilowatt of power and you're lighting a string of light bulbs with it. ”

“ Al grinned. "But after centuries of finding out about everything else, we don't know what life is. All biologists can tell us is that we're molecules strung together to make cells that produce some sort of energy." ”

“ You'd expect the generator to get all fouled up, or maybe burn out some wires, but it goes along at the same speed and makes just 500 watts of power, no more, no less. Dynamos are like that, they never waste their output."
"Is that life?"
"In a way it is," said Al. "Like I said, we're not generators, but life may be just a process of making a little energy. We make just enough to keep the merry-go-round going. Then something goes wrong. We start making more than we should. We get overcharged, like a battery. The energy has to go somewhere, so we start shooting sparks."
Oakey laughed. ”

“ Oakey turned from the instrument panel. His eyes focussed on the cherry red floor with Al in the center of the glow.
Sparks came from Al's mouth as he spoke again. "Before I shot Joe, I tried to make him understand. I had to kill him, and I've got to kill you whether you've got the disease or not. It's the way with things. Our individual lives don't mean a plugged nickel, but a whole race does. We can't take the Quinnies to the green planet."
"I told you, they're not people like us," said Oakey. "They just look like us. Some fish look like snakes. Some mammals look like fish. ”

“ Joe knew the symptoms. He must have had it for a long time before he began shooting sparks." Oakey paused for a moment. "We've probably been exposed, Al."
"Yeah, we've been exposed a thousand times," the commander said. "Everybody on this ship except Joe and I died from the Quinnies after we returned from that voyage ten years ago. Everybody else I sailed space with died too—except you. There's some kind of immunity. Maybe we've got it. You and I."
"The Quinnies isn't like measles or small pox, Al. Germs and viruses don't cause it. Something goes wrong with life itself." ”

“ We never know the first cause, and if we found it we'd ask what caused it. Everything goes around in circles. There's the carbon-nitrogen-hydrogen cycle that makes the sun hot—elements change and get back to where they started, losing just a little energy. ”

“ Maybe she had a nice figure and pretty eyes. Your glands got fooled."
"She was just like an earth-girl, only prettier. That's why—"
"Maybe she was pretty, but that was ten years ago. You're not handsome any more and neither is she. ”