I have decided that the trouble with print is, it never changes its mind.

Nothing said in words ever came out quite even. Things in words got twisted and ran together, instead of staying straight and fitting together.

I'll make my report as if I told a story, for I was taught as a child on my homeworld that Truth is a matter of the imagination.

The reader can't take much for granted in a fiction where the scenery can eat the characters.

See, the thing is, as a writer you are free. You are about the freest person that ever was. Your freedom is what you have bought with your solitude, your loneliness.

This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.

We scarcely know how much of our pleasure and interest in life comes to us through our eyes until we have to do without them; and part of that pleasure is that the eyes can choose where to look. But the ears can't choose where to listen.