Men love their ideas more than their lives. And the more preposterous the idea, the more eager they are to die for it. And to kill for it.
It is true that some of my fiction was based on actual events. But the events took place after the fiction was written.
One thing worse than self-hatred is chiggers.
Do I believe in ghosts? I believe in the ghosts that haunt the human mind.
If the end does not justify the means - what can?
Only a fool would leave the enjoyment of rainbows to the opticians. Or give the science of optics the last word on the matter.