...all Cynicism Masks A Failure To Cope.

Forgetting’s Not Something You Do, It Happens To You. Only It Didn’t Happen To Me.

It's Despair At The Lack Of Feeling, Of Love, Of Reason In The World. It's Despair That Anyone Can Even Contemplate The Idea Of Dropping A Bomb Or Ordering That It Should Be Dropped. It's Despair That So Few Of Us Care. It's Despair That There's So Much Brutality And Callousness In The World. It's Despair That Perfectly Normal Young Men Can Be Made Vicious And Evil Because They've Won A Lot Of Money. And Then Do What You've Done To Me.

Whatever Sympathy I Feel Towards Religions, Whatever Admiration For Some Of Their Adherents, Whatever Historical Or Biological Necessity I See In Them, Whatever Metaphorical Truth, I Cannot Accept Them As Credible Explanations Of Reality; And They Are Incredible To Me In Proportion To The Degree That They Require My Belief In Positive Human Attributes And Intervenient Powers In Their Divinities.

I Do Not Plan My Fiction Any More Than I Normally Plan Woodland Walks; I Follow The Path That Seems Most Promising At Any Given Point, Not Some Itinerary Decided Before Entry.

The Power Of Women! I've Never Felt So Full Of Mysterious Power. Men Are A Joke. We're So Weak Physically, So Helpless With Things. Still, Even Today. But We're Stronger Than They Are. We Can Stand Their Cruelty. They Can't Stand Ours.