Anybody can find infinite Mandelbrot figures in his navel.

So much American science fiction is parochial - not as true now as it was years ago, but the assumption is one culture in the future, more or less like ours, and with the same ideals, the same notions of how to do things, just bigger and flashier technology. Well, you know darn well it doesn't work that way.

Heaven is not as narrowly literal-minded as hell.

A fanatic's willingness to kill or be killed in the service of a cause cannot prove the rightness of that cause.

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.

Better a life like a falling star, brief bright across the dark, than the long, long waiting of the immortals, loveless and cheerlessly wise.

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