But I Think, And Hope, That The

It's One Of The Strangest Attributes Of This Profession That When We Writers Get Exhausted Writing One Thing, We Relax By Writing Another.

I Think Challenges Are What Any Decent Writer Would Be All About. If You Actually Do Find Your Slide And Grease It, Shame On You. Me, I Get Bored Very Easily. As A Writer I Get Bored Even Faster Than I Do In Real Life. I Mean, I Like Fast Cars; I've Driven A Lot Of Racecars. You Need Some Stimulation. If I Find Something That Seems Too Difficult To Do, Too Difficult To Research, Or Beyond Your Writing Abilities, It's A Perfect Invitation To Try It.

Words Bend Our Thinking To Infinite Paths Of Self-delusion, And The Fact That We Spend Most Of Our Mental Lives In Brain Mansions Built Of Words Means That We Lack The Objectivity Necessary To See The Terrible Distortion Of Reality Which Language Brings.

The Life Of A Poet Lies Not Merely In The Finite Language-dance Of Expression But In The Nearly Infinite Combinations Of Perception And Memory Combined With The Sensitivity To What Is Perceived And Remembered.

I Know What Cancer Was. How Is It Like Humankind?" Sek Hardeen's Perfectly Modulated, Softly Accented Tones Showed A Hint Of Agitation. "we Have Spread Out Through The Galaxy Like Cancer Cells Through A Living Body, Duré. We Multiply Without Thought To The Countless Life Forms That Must Die Or Be Pushed Aside So That We May Breed And Flourish. We Eradicate Competing Forms Of Intelligent Life.