The bomb lives only as it is falling.

It was the day my grandmother exploded.

My gratitude extends beyond the limits of my capacity to express it.

What's one more meaningless act of violence on that zoo of a planet? It would be appropriate. When in Rome; burn it.

Science fiction has its own history, its own legacy of what's been done, what's been superseded, what's so much part of the furniture it's practically part of the fabric now, what's become no more than a joke... and so on. It's just plain foolish, as well as comically arrogant, to ignore all this, to fail to do the most basic research.

Even in my side of the world, I've been in publishing for what, 25 or 26 years, and it's gone from being a gentlemen's club to being a few big players, and it's very corporatised.

One should never regret one's excesses, only one's failures of nerve.