I'm not in control of my muse. My muse does all the work.

They walked still farther and the girl said, "Is it true that long ago firemen put fires out instead of going to start them?" No. Houses have always been fireproof, take my word for it." Strange. I heard once that a long time ago houses used to burn by accident and they needed firemen to stop the flames.

If you write a hundred short stories and they're all bad, that doesn't mean you've failed. You fail only if you stop writing.

But souls can't be sold. They can only be lost and never found again.

Hello!" He said hello and then said, "What are you up to now?" "I'm still crazy. The rain feels good. I love to walk in it. "I don't think I'd like that," he said. "You might if you tried." "I never have." She licked her lips. "Rain even tastes good." "What do you do, go around trying everything once?" he asked. "Sometimes twice.

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

I don't try to describe the future. I try to prevent it.