It is a paradox of Life that all species breed past mere replacement. Any paradise of plenty soon fills to become paradise no more.

Anyone who wants simple, pat stories should buy another author's product. The real universe ain't that way, and neither are my fictive ones.

Why must conversions always come so late? Why do people always apologize to corpses?

If you have other things in your life-family, friends, good productive day work-these can interact with your writing and the sum will be all the richer.

We already live a very long time for mammals, getting three times as many heartbeats as a mouse or elephant. It never seems enough though, does it?

Many people have tried to define science fiction. I like to call it the literature of exploration and change. While other genres obsess upon so-called eternal verities, SF deals with the possibility that our children may have different problems. They may, indeed, be different than we have been.

I regret having been the bearer of ambiguous tidings.