I'm doing a book, 'Chasing Science,' about the pleasures of science as a spectator sport.

The science fiction method is dissection and reconstruction.

In terms of stories I would buy for a science fiction magazine, if they take place in the future, that might do it.

When I sit down to the feast of life ... I'm so busy planning on how to pick up the check, and wondering what the other people think of me for paying it, and wondering if I have enough money in my pocket to pay the bill, that I don't get around to eating.

What were we doing here? Traveling hundreds or thousands of light-years, to break our hearts?

For someone to be taken seriously it was valuable to have the appearance of someone who deserved to be taken seriously.

You can't really predict the future. All you can do is invent it.