All the worry people expend over not existing after they die, yet nary a one ever seems to spare a moment to worry about not having existed before they were conceived. Or at all. After all, one sperm over and we would have been our sisters, and we'd never have been missed.

When you can’t do something truly useful, you tend to vent the pent up energy in something useless but available, like snappy dressing.

All true wealth is biological.

Suicidal glory is the luxury of the irresponsible.

The rule for finding plots for character-centered novels, which is to ask: 'So what's the worst possible thing I can do to *this* guy?' And then do it.

This wasn't prayer anyway, it was just argument with the gods. Prayer, he suspected as he hoisted himself up and turned for the door, was putting one foot in front of the other. Moving all the same.

I don't want power. I just object to idiots having power over me.