I could see how you could do extreme things for the person you loved. Adam One said that when you loved a person, that love might not always get returned the way you wanted, but it was a good thing anyway because love went out all around you like an energy wave, and a creature you didn't know would be helped by it.

Maybe sadness was a kind of hunger, she thought. Maybe the two went together.

Writing of the narrative kind, and perhaps all writing, is motivated deep down, by a fear or and fascination with mortality - by a desire to make the risky trip to the underworld and to bring something or someone back from the dead.

All observations of life are harsh, because life is. I lament that fact, but I cannot change it.

You don't look back along time but down through it, like water. Sometimes this comes to the surface, sometimes that, sometimes nothing. Nothing goes away.

We are a society dying, said Aunt Lydia, of too much choice.

Science fiction, to me, has not only things that wouldn't happen, but other planets.