"Squirming about, Rachael managed to roll over at last onto her stomach, face buried in the white
lower sheet. "This is a clean, noble, virgin type of bed," she stated. "Only clean, noble girls who - "
She pondered. "Androids can't bear children," she said, then. "Is that a loss?"
He finished undressing her. Exposed her pale, cold loins.
"Is it a loss?" Rachael repeated. "I don't really know; I have no way to tell. How does it feel to
have a child? How does it feel to be born, for that matter? We're not born; we don't grow up;
instead of dying from illness or old age we wear out like ants. Ants again; that's what we are. Not
you; I mean me. Chitinous reflex-machines who aren't really alive." She twisted her head to one side,
said loudly, "I'm not alive! You're not going to bed with a woman. Don't be disappointed; okay?
Have you ever made love to an android before?"
"No," he said, taking off his shirt and tie.
"I understand - they tell me - it's convincing if you don't think too much about it. But if you think
too much, if you reflect on what you're doing - then you can't go on. For ahem physiological
reasons."
Bending, he kissed her bare shoulder.
"Thanks, Rick," she said wanly. "Remember, though: don't think about it, just do it. Don't pause
and be philosophical, because from a philosophical standpoint it's dreary. For us both."" (86-87 (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, Philip K. Dick)
