Its at night, when perhaps we should be dreaming, that the mind is most clear, that we are most able to hold all our life in the palm of our skull. I dont know if anyone has ever pointed out that great attraction of insomnia before, but it is so; the night seems to release a little more of our vast backward inheritance of instincts and feelings; as with the dawn, a little honey is allowed to ooze between the lips of the sandwich, a little of the stuff of dreams to drip into the waking mind.

I have had wealth, rank and power, but, if these were all I had, how wretched I should be.

A writer should say to himself, not, How can I get more money?, but How can I reach more readers (without lowering standards)?

We belong to an age where apocalypse is our daily bread, coffee's black, and we know we're part of the abyss. Red Spider White Web is right on target in conveying that understanding. It splinters in the mind... the underworld of the century's imaginings.

Feedback is a pleasant thing. I get a lot of letters from unexpected people in unexpected places.

My briefest ever definition of science fiction is 'Hubris clobbered by Nemesis.'

That is why we dread children, even if we love them. They show us the state of our decay.