Cannibals Prefer Those Who Have No Spines.

Man Has Gone Out To Explore Other Worlds And Other Civilizations Without Having Explored His Own Labyrinth Of Dark Passages And Secret Chambers, And Without Finding What Lies Behind Doorways That He Himself Has Sealed.

You Climb To Reach The Summit, But Once There, Discover That All Roads Lead Down.

Where Do Consequences Lead? Depends On The Escort.

Man Does Not Create Gods, In Spite Of Appearances. The Times, The Age, Impose Them On Him. Man Can Serve His Age Or Rebel Against It, But The Target Of His Cooperation Or Rebellion Comes To Him From Outside.

The Only Writers Who Have Any Peace Are The Ones Who Don't Write. And There Are Some Like That. They Wallow In A Sea Of Possibilities. To Express A Thought, You First Have To Limit It, And That Means Kill It. Every Word I Speak Robs Me Of A Thousand Others, And Every Line I Write Means Giving Up Another.