I'm sitting in my office trying to squeeze a story from my head. It is that kind of morning when you feel like melting the typewriter into a bar of steel and clubbing yourself to death with it. (“Advance Notice”)

…Those who’ve marred their appearance in any way by their actions in life aren’t forced to witness that marring. If they were, they’d become self-conscious and be unable to concentrate on improving themselves.

If you go too far in fantasy and break the string of logic, and become nonsensical, someone will surely remind you of your dereliction....Pound for pound, fantasy makes a tougher opponent for the creative person.

It is my conviction that basic Reality is not all that perplexing. What seems difficult to assimilate are the manifold details of Reality, not its fundamental elements.

After a while, though, even the deepest sorrow faltered, even the most penetrating despair lost its scalpel edge.

Our world is in profound danger. Mankind must establish a set of positive values with which to secure its own survival.

I had to write about realistic circumstances. Thats the way my brain works. And I think that gave me a sort of place in the field.