In a novel, I could submerge my ego in a characters and let his perceptions take over.

I love biomedical science, I love astronomy, and you can't really do much with those in a fantasy setting.

There are relatively few science fiction or fantasy books with the main character being an old person.

Normal' is a dryer setting.

I regarded drugs as somewhat like rattlesnakes - it's possible to pick one up without getting bit, but why bother?

There is simple ignorance, not knowing, and willful ignorance that refuses to know, that covers the light of knowledge with the dark blanket of bias.

It may be far in the future, but there's some kind of logical way to get from where we are to where the science fiction is.

So when I got out of the military, I went back to school in biology, and earned a biology degree at the University of Texas, and then did some graduate work in it.

My first degree came years before my second. I had wanted to be a physicist, but I flunked calculus.

Hard to be a physics major at Rice University if you have flunked calculus.

I've taught Sunday school, I've sung in the choir, I directed a choir.

What is important is not the specific manner in which God is worshiped but the degree to which the devotee is filled with love. (48-49)

Silence rolled at me, in

The demands of internal growth are incomparably more important to us...than the need for any external expansion of our power.

Obviously, I can't perform; admittedly, I'm terrible.

You're not really drinking coffee unless you drink it black, don't you think? Oh, no? You like to monkey with it?

The Flutie Bowl is a great event that brings together people who really care about the autism community. We always have a great time bowling and playing music.

When you're a touring musician, you're always turning over new rocks and there's always a certain level of tension in your life.

Most of us are in touch with our intuition whether we know it or not, but we're usually in the habit of doubting or contradicting it so automatically that we don't even know it has spoken

We are all of us, in this world, more or less like St. January, whom the inhabitants of Naples worship one day, and pelt with baked apples the next.

Words are cold, muddy toads trying to understand sprites dancing in a field-but they're all we have.