The world began in hazard and will end in it.

Content is a word unknown to life; it is also a word unknown to man.

Only one same reason is shared by all of us: we wish to create worlds as real as, but other than the world that is. Or was. This is why we cannot plan. We know a world is an organism, not a machine. We also know that a genuinely created world must be independent of its creator; a planned world (a world that fully reveals its planning) is a dead world. It is only when our characters and events begin to disobey us that they begin to live.

You put up with your voice and speak with it because you haven't any choice. But it's what you say that counts.

Stained glass, engraved glass, frosted glass; give me plain glass.

It's like the day you realize dolls are dolls. I pick up my old self and I see it's silly. A toy I've played with too often. It's a little sad, like an old golliwog at the bottom of the cupboard. Innocent and used-up and proud and silly.

If you want to be true to life, start lying about it