As Long As She Was Falling In

The Two Dozen Commonplace Childhood Photographs - Snowsuit, Pony, Tennis Racket, Looming Fender Of A Dodge - Were An Inexhaustible Source Of Wonder For Him, At Her Having Existed Before He Met Her, And Of Sadness For His Possessing Nothing Of The Ten Million Minutes Of That Black-and-white Scallop-edged Existence Save These Few Proofs.

Most Science Fiction Seemed To Be Written For People Who Already Liked Science Fiction; I Wanted To Write Stories For Anyone, Anywhere, Living At Any Time In The History Of The World.

A Hope Fulfilled Is Already Half A Disappointment.

It Drains The Bars And Cafes After Hours, Concentrates The Wicked And The Guilty Along Its Chipped Formica Counter, And Thrums With The Gossip Of Criminals, Policemen, Shtarkers,and Schlemiels, Whores And Night Owls ... Three Or Four Floaters, Solitaries, And Drunks Between Benders Lean Against The Sparkly Resin Counter, Sucking The Tea From Their Shtekelehs And Working The Calulations Of Their Next Big Mistake.

All The Preparation In The World Doesn't Avail You If You Can't Make That Imaginative Leap And Put Yourself In The Position Of The Characters You've Created, To Imagine What It's Like To Be Somebody Else.