I can love October in September. September doesn’t care.

Not all or even most suffering is at the hands of fate; it befalls us at our invitation.

I like to deal with EVERY aspect of our condition, and that means terror and humor in equal mix. Some books have more room for humor than others.

I think it's perfectly just to refuse service to anyone based on behavior, but not based on race or religion.

In a world that daily disconnects further from truth, more and more people accept the virtual in place of the real, and all things virtual are also malleable.

I come down on the side of free will but I have sympathy for those who believe in fate because there is something about life which we feel we have no control over.

Good fences make good neighbors, and these were apparently good enough that they had not felt the need for razor wire at the top. I crested the fence, threw myself into the yard beyond, fell, rolled to my feet, and ran with the expectation of being garroted by a taut clothesline. I heard panting, looked down, and saw a gold retriever running at my side, ears flapping. The dog glanced up at me tongue rolling, grinning, as though jazzed by the prospect of an unscheduled play session.