He is far too intelligent to become really cerebral.

One of the things [fiction] does is lead you to recognize what you did not know before.

Hate gets going, it goes round, it gets older and tighter and older and tighter, until it holds a person inside it like a fist holds a stick.

Part of the particular interest and beauty of science fiction and fantasy: writer and reader collaborate in world-making.

There's nothing wrong with me...except acute chronic fear.

The future has become uninhabitable. Such hopelessness can arise, I think, only from an inability to face the present, to live in the present, to live as a responsible being among other beings in this sacred world here and now, which is all we have, and all we need, to found our hope upon.

In the tale, in the telling, we are all one blood.