Most Of Humanity Gets By

He Never Believed In Fate Or Providence, Or The Future Being Made By Someone In The Sky. Instead, At Every Instant, A Trillion Trillion Possible Futures; The Pickiness Of Pure Chance And Physical Laws Seemed Like Freedom From The Scheming Of A Gloomy God.

If I Could Write The Perfect Novella I Would Die Happy.

A Story Was A Form Of Telepathy. By Means Of Inking Symbols Onto A Page, She Was Able To Send Thoughts And Feelings From Her Mind To Her Reader's. It Was A Magical Process, So Commonplace That No One Stopped To Wonder At It.

It Is Quite Impossible These Days To Assume Anything About People's Educational Level From The Way They Talk Or Dress Or From Their Taste In Music. Safest To Treat Everyone You Meet As A Distinguished Intellectual.

At That Moment, The Urge To Be Writing Was Stronger Than Any Notion She Had Of What She Might Write.