To feed your Muse, then, you should always have been hungry about life since you were a child. If not, it is a little late to start.

Memory is an illusion, nothing more. It is a fire that needs constant tending.

The books leapt and danced like roasted birds, their wings ablaze with red and yellow feathers.

The first stories I wrote when I was 12 were about Mars and landing on Mars.

Remember, the firemen are rarely necessary. The public itself stopped reading of its own accord.

Men throw huge shadows on the lawn, don't they? Then, all their lives, they try to run to fit the shadows. But the shadows are always longer.

The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.