My major preoccupation is the question, 'What is reality ?' Many of my stories and novels deal with psychotic states or drug-induced states by which I can present the concept of a multiverse rather than a universe. Music and sociology are themes in my novels, also radical political trends; in particular I've written about fascism and my fear of it.

It is amazing that when someone else spouts the nonsense you yourself believe you can readily perceive it as nonsense

A child of today can detect a lie quicker than the wisest adult of two decades ago. When I want to know what is true, I ask my children.

I like her; I could watch her the rest of my life. She has breasts that smile.

I want to write about people I love, and put them into a fictional world spun out of my own mind, not the world we actually have, because the world we actually have does not meet my standards. Okay, so I should revise my standards; I'm out of step. I should yield to reality. I have never yielded to reality. That's what SF is all about. If you wish to yield to reality, go read Philip Roth; read the New York literary establishment mainstream bestselling writers

Madness, like small fish, runs in hosts, in vast numbers of instances.

The silence of the world could not rein back it's greed. Not any longer. Not when it had virtually won.