It seems to me that you can almost define civilization by saying it's people who are not willing to hurt other people because the other people are different.

You never learn how to write a novel. You just learn how to write the novel that you're writing.

Imagine a man who stands before a mirror; a stone strikes it, and it falls to ruin all in an instant. And the man learns that he is himself, and not the mirrored man he had believed himself to be.

People don't want other people to be people.

Weak people believe what is forced on them. Strong people what they wish to believe, forcing that to be real.

Knowledge is soon changed, then lost in the mist, an echo half-heard.

My definition of good literature is that which can be read by an educated reader, and reread with increased pleasure.

There is no limit to stupidity. - Space itself is said to be bounded by its own curvature, but stupidity continues beyond infinity.

Ambiguity is necessary in some of my stories, not in all. In those, it certainly contributes to the richness of the story. I doubt that thematic closure is never attainable.

Evolution teaches us the original purpose of language was to ritualize men's threats and curses, his spells to compel the gods; communication came later.

All time exists. That is the truth.... If the future did not exist now, how could we journey toward it? If the past does not exist still, how could we leave it behind?

For some folks death is release, and for others death is an abomination, a terrible thing. But in the end, I'm there for all of them.

...she cried because prejudice outlives passion and because she was sentimentally patriotic.

People with fewer economic resources have very limited opportunity for joining the global internet economy.

I might do cartoonish sexual jokes, but it's my way of saying what's going on in the world. How people are animals, really.

I know I look good. The regular adjectives that come my way - sexy, hot, dusky, bong bombshell I love them.

The past is like the hair on our head. I moved to New York when I was twelve, but you always have this feeling that wherever you come from, you physically leave it, but it doesn't leave you.

Even when I don't see, I still believe.

What a cruel irony of fate, to pair together, like Siamese twins united by the shoulders, scientific adversaries of such contrasting character!

A mother needs to be in the home even when the kids aren’t. A messy house sends a coded message to children: “I’m not loveable. Otherwise Mother would dust.

If you just follow your inner calling, then you just go ahead.