Sir Arthur C Clarke has died.

I grew up on his short stories. One sticks in my memory nearly 50 years later.

It shows how slow computers were in those days: a job which took four days could now be done by the chip in a singing birthday card almost instantly. Which is why we are moving along nicely towards creating Hal, or something like him?

This not so much short as tiny story finishes with one of the most magnificent and moving lines in science fiction:

Overhead, without any fuss, the stars were going out.