Date: 2006

"He knew the drill: throughout history, the brain had been compared to the highest prevailing level of technology: steam engine, telephone switchboard, computer."

— Powers, Richard (b. 1957)

Date: 2006

"Now, as Weber approached his own professional zenith, the brain became the Internet, a distributed network, more than two hundred modules in loose, mutually modifying chatter with other modules."

— Powers, Richard (b. 1957)

Date: 2006

"He stumbled through an answer that had once been automatic: The brain was not a machine, not a car engine, not a computer."

— Powers, Richard (b. 1957)

Date: 2006

"Weber had told the story years ago, concluding with a few thoughts about the locked room of personal experience."

— Powers, Richard (b. 1957)

Date: 2007

"She had a mind like a mongoose but she was not, in the end, a worldly woman."

— Díaz, Junot (b. 1968)

Date: 2009

"Eliot closes his eyes and sorts through the database of biblical references that he jammed into his brain during his days as a somewhat-more-devout young man."

— Konstantinou, Lee

Date: 2009

"Like some inoperable cancerous thing inside his brain, a new mental organ had awakened, insistently and without mercy pushing him forward, punishing him with guilt, compelling him to feel things and want things that can't be argued for or against on the basis of logical reasoning, analy...

— Konstantinou, Lee

Date: 2009

"His daddy issues need to be resolved, his therapist says, and he could probably stand to improve his relationship with his mother too, but Eliot wonders whether any amount of analysis will ever unknot this tangled mass of mental rope."

— Konstantinou, Lee

Date: 2009

"Whatever else has happened to him, the moral thing that erupted in his mind hasn't gone into remission. If anything, it has only metastasized, secretly colonizing, under the cover of this last month's madness, more and more of his sense of self."

— Konstantinou, Lee

Date: 2010

"His cell was a concrete box six feet by ten with one window and a steel door with a slot wide enough to slip his hands through but that was all, and most of the time he just lay there on his cot, his mind so blank it was like a pail with nothing in it."

— Cronin, Justin