That is the eternal folly of man. To be chasing after the sweet flesh, without realizing that it is simply a pretty cover for the bones.

Richard began to understand darkness: darkness as something solid and real, so much more than a simple absence of light. He felt it touch his skin, questing, moving, exploring: gliding through his mind. It slipped into his lungs, behind his eyes, into his mouth.

Everything has to be intrinsic plot-wise in the same way, to use the Linda Williams analogy but to move it on a bit, as musicals - in old musicals, like in an old Cole Porter musical, you get the action, then they do a song, which reflects a moment - everything stops while that is being sung - and then you restart. These days in most musicals, the plot keeps moving through the song. I think it would be nice if someone constructed some pornography where the sex continues to propel you through the story.

Loyalty was a great thing, but no lieutenants should be forced to choose between their leader and a circus with elephants.

I was not happy as a child, although from time to time I was content. I lived in books more than I lived anywhere else.

For me, I would rather read a good book, from a contented author. I don't really care what it takes to produce that.

I suppose the point you grow up is the point you let the dreams go.