Take it from somebody who has been around for a million years: When you get right down to it, food is practically the whole story every time.

Pay no attention to Caesar. Caesar doesn't have the slightest idea what's really going on.

You can't teach people to write well. Writing well is something God lets you do or declines to let you do.

. . . hummings and clickings could be heard-the sounds attendant to the flow of electrons, now augmenting one maze of electromagnetic crises to a condition that was translatable from electrical qualities and quantities to a high grade of truth.

It's a small world. When you put it in a cemetery, it is.

It appeared to the Elders that the people here would believe anything about themselves, no matter how preposterous, as long as it was flattering. To make sure of this, they performed an experiment. They put the idea into Earthlings' heads that the whole Universe had been created by one big animal who looked just like them. He sat on a throne with a lot of less fancy thrones all around him. When people died they got to sit on those other thrones forever because they were such close relatives of the Creator. The people down here just ate that up!

I keep losing and regaining my equilibrium, which is the basic plot of all popular fiction. And I myself am a work of fiction.