My tongue remembers your wounded flavor.The vein in my neckadores you. A swordstands up between my hips, my hidden fleece sends forth its scent of human oil.

A door jumpsout from shadows, then jumps away. Thisis what I've come to find:the back door, unlatched.Tooled by insular wind, itslams and slamswithout meaningto and without meaning.

Moonlight and high wind.Dark poplars toss, insinuate the sea.

Memory revises me.

Believe, my child. Faith is the food of survival.

One learns one’s mystery at the price of one’s innocence.

I first read science fiction in the old British Chum annual when I was about 12 years old.

What you make of your life is up to you. You have all the tools and resources you need. Your answers lie inside of you.

If I'm offered a good case in Florida or a good case somewhere else, South Florida will win every time.

When I need to identify rebels, I look for men with principles

There are certain projects that you love to be involved in, no matter what the capacity, and there are certain projects that I probably wouldn't even consider getting behind.

Refusing to be disillusioned is the cause of much of the suffering of human life.

I didn't hang any pictures in my office for a year because I thought that I would be jinxing myself and have to take them down the next day.

When you Rectify your Relationship with the Creator, He Rectifies your relationship with All of the Creation.