You meet saints everywhere. They can be anywhere. They are people behaving decently in an indecent society.

Earthlings went on being friendly, when they should have been thinking instead.

All this happened, more or less. The war parts, anyway, are pretty much true.

I can think of no more stirring symbol of man's humanity to man than a fire engine.

Say what you will about the sweet miracle of unquestioning faith, I consider a capacity for it terrifying and absolutely vile.

In an unmoored life like mine, sleep and hunger and work arrange themselves to suit themselves, without consulting me.

A story has to be a good date, because the reader can stop at any time. Remember, readers are selfish and have no compulsion to be decent about anything.