This is space. It's sometimes called the final frontier. (Except that of course you can't have a final frontier, because there'd be nothing for it to be a frontier to, but as frontiers go, it's pretty penultimate . . .)

Tragic heroes always moan when the gods take an interest in them, but it's the people the gods ignore who get the really tough deals

Sooner or later we're all someone's dog.

I once absent-mindedly ordered Three Mile Island dressing in a restaurant and, with great presence of mind, they brought Thousand Island Dressing and a bottle of chili sauce.

I was a very keen reader of science fiction, and during the time I was going to libraries, it was good, written by people who knew their science.

Who knows what the future holds.

Mister Teatime had a truly brilliant mind, but it was brilliant like a fractured mirror, all marvellous facets and rainbows but, ultimately, also something that was broken.