Science and fiction both begin with similar questions: What if? Why? How does it all work? But they focus on different areas of life on earth.

Repeat reading for me shares a few things with hot-water bottles and thumbsucking: comfort, familiarity, the recurrence of the expected.

It's clear, it's fresh, like a mint candy.

Blondes are like white mice, you only find them in cages. They wouldn’t last long in nature. They’re too conspicuous.

I am afraid of falling into hopeless despair, over my wasted life, and I am still not sure how it happened.

Victorian literature was my subject at Harvard.

When a man is attacked in print, it's usually for saying what he says; when a woman is attacked in print, it's often for being who she is.