Who had the bigger burden? The one who had to watch the other person endure or the one who endured?

I think I got a complete picture of what the lives of scientists are like. My father is of the opinion that if scientists are allowed to follow their nose, eventually it results in something. Unfortunately that doesn't always happen. What I came out of it with, in a non-cynical way, was that the scientific process is as messy as anything else. There's nothing wrong with that. That's just the way it is.

It is the nature of the writer to question the validity of his world and yet rely on his senses to describe it. From what other tension can great literature be born?

An inordinate love of ritual can be harmful to the soul, unless, of course, in times of great crisis, when ritual can protect the soul from fracture.

I see music as an aid. It overcomes my internal editor, especially when the music evokes the character or the mood I'm trying to build.

So many differing opinions and philosophies... are rarely housed under the roof of a single magazine.

Who had the bigger burden? The one who had to watch the other person endure or the one who endured?