There Was No Quick Grief

I Was Carrying Two Cargoes. Yes, One Of Them Was Horror, But The Other One Was Hope.

Your Culture Has Become Sophisticated, Like A Computer, Or A Drug That You Take For A Headache. You Can Use It, But You Cannot Explain How It Works. Certainly Not To Girls Who Stack Up Their Firewood Against The Side Of The House.

A Scar Does Not Form On The Dying. A Scar Means, I Survived.

I Write In The Novel's Afterword That Our Recent Wars "finish Not With Victory Or Defeat But With A Calendar Draw-down Date And A Presumption That We Shall Never Be Reconciled With The Enemy".

I'm Not Happy With Just Repeating Myself.