Imagination is but another name for super intelligence.

In that little party there was not one who would desert another; yet we were of different countries, different colours, different races, different religions--and one of us was of a different world.

I got this story from someone who had no business in the telling of it.

If you write one story, it may be bad; if you write a hundred, you have the odds in your favor.

You are here for but an instant, and you mustn't take yourself too seriously

I shall have to believe even though I cannot understand.

Could it be that there were other things more desirable than cold logic and undefiled brain power?