In my considered opinion, the profit to be made by permanent settlement in space is nothing less than the survival of industrial civilization, and therefore the survival of nearly the entire human race, along with such amenities as peace, freedom, enough to eat, and the chance to reach a high age in good health.

My knowledge of the human psyche is as yet imperfect. Certain areas won't yield to computation.

Why do people in this age think their own impoverished lives must be the norm of the universe?

We live with our archetypes, but can we live in them?

I wrote the first book, Harvest of Stars, and as I was writing it, I saw that certain implications had barely been touched on... It's perfectly obvious that two completely revolutionary things are going on, with cybernetics, and biological science.

I think the first duty of all art, including fiction of any kind, is to entertain. That is to say, to hold interest. No matter how worthy the message of something, if it's dull, you're just not communicating.

I have yet to see any problem, however complicated, which, when you looked at it in the right way, did not become still more complicated.