I find that writing is a constant battle with exactly the same problems you've always had.

If they don’t keep exercising their lips, he thought, their brains start working.

Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-two million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.

Fiordland, a vast tract of mountainous terrain that occupies the south-west corner of South Island, New Zealand, is one of the most astounding pieces of land anywhere on God's earth, and one's first impulse, standing on a cliff top surveying it all, is simply to burst into spontaneous applause.

To boldly split infinitives that no man had split before.

The single raindrop never feels responsible for the flood.

Deep in the fundamental heart of mind and Universe there is a reason.