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The answer to all writing, to any career for that matter, is love.
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It's not going to do any good to land on Mars if we're stupid.
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Time was a film run backward. Suns fled and ten million moons fled after them.
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We have our Arts so we won't die of Truth.
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I just want someone to hear what I have to say. And maybe if I talk long enough, it’ll make sense.
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You're either in love with what you do, or you're not in love.
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If God treats you well by teaching you a disastrous lesson, you never forget it.
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Sometimes I think I understand everything. Then I regain consciousness
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I have two rules in life - to hell with it, whatever it is, and get your work done.
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The gods had gone away, and the ritual of the religion continued senselessly, uselessly.
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I have fun with ideas; I play with them.
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Mars is empty now. Five hundred years from now, it'll be full of people.
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We have everything we need to be happy but we aren't happy. Something is missing... It is not books you need, it's some of the things that are in books. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.
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If someone sends you a love letter you've got to answer back.
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My stories are warnings; they're not predictions. If they were predictions, I wouldn't do them. Because then I'd be part of the doom-ridden psychology. But every time I name a problem, I try to give a solution.
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I don't know anything anymore
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The most dangerous thing you can do is know who you are.
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This is the result of six billion years of evolution. Tonight, we have given the lie to gravity.We have reached for the stars.
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Is it true, the world works hard and we play? Is that why we're hated so much?
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There was her face, like a summer peach, beautiful and warm, and the light of the candles reflected in her dark eyes. He held his breath. The entire world waited and held its breath.
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What can we writers learn from lizards, lift from birds? In quickness is truth. The faster you blurt, the more swiftly you write, the more honest you are. In hesitation is thought. In delay comes the effort for a style, instead of leaping upon truth which is the only style worth deadfalling or tiger-trapping.
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My personal telephone book is a book of the dead now. I'm so old. Almost all of my friends have died, and I don't have the guts to take their names out of the book.
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A story should be like a river, flowing and never stopping, your readers passengers on a boat, whirling downstream through constantly refreshing and changing scemery.
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He lay far across the room from her, on a winter island separated by an empty sea. She talked to him for what seemed a long while and she talked about this and she talked about that and it was only words, like the words he had heard once in a nursery at a friend's house, a two-year-old child building word patters, like jargon, making pretty sounds in the air.