"Edith Schrödinger. Great-niece. Twice removed, if you're counting." She stroked the cat. "Erwin was my grandmother’s cousin. The family has kept the box."
Sheldon lived alone in a minimalist apartment overlooking a fog-gray Boston harbor. His furniture was ergonomic. His wardrobe was algorithmic. His social circle consisted of peer-reviewed papers and the occasional, grudging nod to his department chair. He did not own a pet because, as he often explained, "mammalian affection is a statistically inefficient use of metabolic resources." dr. sheldon wise
"Does observation require understanding ?" Edith smiled. "Or merely presence ?" "Edith Schrödinger