One of the things that everybody knows about space travel but never mentions is its aphrodisiac quality.

Be grateful that you only see the outward man. Be grateful that you never see the passions, the hatreds, the jealousies, the malice, the sicknesses... Be grateful you rarely see the frightening truth in people.

Life is a freak. That’s its hope and glory.

It's been suggested that most women fail to write significantly because the female mind is viscerotonic, and occupied almost exclusively with the moment-to-moment reality of emotions. If this is true, literature's loss is science fiction's gain, for Out of Bounds, Judith Merril's collection of short stories, is a warm and colorful rendering of the minutiae of the future.

This was an age of extremes, a fascinating century of freaks... but nobody loved it.

The test of intellect is the refusal to belabor the obvious.

The damnable frustration of revenge. Revenge is for dreams...never for reality.