If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.

It is a sobering thought that Gomer Pyle and the Beverly Hillbillies may be among our chief interstellar emissaries.

Just in the nick of time they realized that it was their own habitat they were wrecking -- that they weren't merely visitors.

You have to go, but I have to stay.

Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.

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

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