One of my standard - and fairly true - responses to the question as to how story ideas come to me is that story ideas only come to me for short stories. With longer fiction, it is a character (or characters) coming to visit, and I am then obliged to collaborate with him/her/it/them in creating the story.

I try to sit down at the typewriter four times a day, even if it's only five minutes, and write three sentences.

Of course it does not apply to me. I am the soul of honor, kindness, mercy and goodness. Trust me in all things.

Tonight I will suck the marrow from your bones!” it said. “I will dry them and work them most cunningly into instruments of music! Whenever I play upon them, your spirit will writhe in bodiless agony!” “You burn prettily,” I said.

The day of battle dawned pink as the fresh-bitten thigh of a maiden.

The four points of the compass be logic, knowledge, wisdom and the unknown. Some do bow in that final direction. Others advance upon it. To bow before the one is to lose sight of the three. I may submit to the unknown, but never to the unknowable. The man who bows in that final direction is either a saint or a fool. I have no use for either.

Do you work for the government, any government?” "I pay taxes, which means I work for the government, part of the time. Yes.