I find the world and all it contains extremely fascinating. Is this sinful?

Thus does the unyielding, inescapable future ineluctably devour the present.

It has been suggested that Tiptree is female, a theory that I find absurd, for there is to me something ineluctably masculine about Tiptree’s writing. I don’t think the novels of Jane Austen could have been written by a man nor the stories of Ernest Hemingway by a woman, and in the same way I believe the author of the James Tiptree stories is male.

To devote oneself to vigilance when the enemy is an imaginary one is idle, and to congratulate oneself for looking long and well for a foe that is not coming is foolish and sinful. My life has been a waste.

When you know that something is dying inside you, you learn not to put much trust in the random vitalities of the fleeting moment.

Utopias are boring. Distopias on the other hand, are interesting.

Ignorance can't be pardoned. Only cured.