“You could be interested,, even fascinated by one, you could conceivably admire one, but nobody loves a Moebius Strip. Particularly not a living one. Even cut out of paper, there’s something infuriatingly unreasonable about one, and in the flesh— shuddered, looking at the creature on the table in front of me and repeated it: nobody loves a Moebius Strip. The thing had all of the less appealing qualities of a skinned snake which had been flattened by a steam roller and had somehow contrived to swallow part of itself in the process. It didn’t look as if it had only one surface and edge, but I’d proved it by drawing a wavering line around it. The line was unsteady because the thing had tried to wriggle away. It had also made a faintly chortling sound and I made a useless note to the effect that it was probably ticklish. I was at a loss to know how to take its measurements, but if you flattened it out, ignored the unnerving half-twist somewhere in it and measured it doubled over itself , it would have been about a foot long and three inches wide.”

“With a mighty heave, it hurled itself into the air and settled around the bottle, fitting itself tightly around the surface. It was giving a good imitation of hugging the bottle when it spoke a single word, a word which would be recognized by any intelligent being in the universe. “Mama”, it said plaintively.”

“The Moebius Strip has been placed in a nursery where it will remain until it grows up, presumably in the form of a Klein's Bottle. It will then be re-tested and, if it passes (as I'm sure it will), it will be offered diplomatic status. But one question continues to haunt me. Can anybody love a Klein's Bottle?”