I have to feel what I'm writing, right down to the core.

Oh yes, I have learned much from Tremorlor, and so assume a like strategy. Silence, a faint mocking smile suggesting I know more than I do, an air of mystery, yes, and fell knowledge. None could guess my confusion, my host of deluded illusions and elusive delusions!

He was a man who would never ask for sympathy. He was a man who sought only to do what was right. Such people appear in the world, every world, now and then, like a single refrain of some blessed song, a fragment caught on the spur of an otherwise raging cacophony. Imagine a world without such souls. Yes, it should have been harder to do.

There is no struggle too vast, no odds too overwhelming, for even should we fail - should we fall - we will know that we have lived.

Wise words are like arrows flung at your forehead. What do you do? Why, you duck of course.

A story invites both writer and reader into a kind of superficial ease: we want to slide along, pleasingly entertained, lost in the fictional dream.

Detachment is a flaw, not a virtue-don’t you realize that?