The Damnable Frustration Of Revenge. Revenge Is

"there's Got To Be More To Life Than Just Living," Foyle Said To The Robot. "then Find It For Yourself, Sir. Don't Ask The World To Stop Moving Because You Have Doubts." "why Can't We All Move Forward Together?" "because You're All Different. You're Not Lemmings. Some Must Lead, And Hope That The Rest Will Follow." "who Leads?" "the Men Who Must... Driven Men, Compelled Men." "freak Men." "you're All Freaks, Sir. But You Always Have Been Freaks. Life Is A Freak. That's Its Hope And Glory."

It's Been Suggested That Most Women Fail To Write Significantly Because The Female Mind Is Viscerotonic, And Occupied Almost Exclusively With The Moment-to-moment Reality Of Emotions. If This Is True, Literature's Loss Is Science Fiction's Gain, For Out Of Bounds, Judith Merril's Collection Of Short Stories, Is A Warm And Colorful Rendering Of The Minutiae Of The Future.

Eight, Sir; Seven, Sir; Six, Sir; Five, Sir; Four, Sir; Three, Sir; Two, Sir; One! Tenser, Said The Tensor. Tenser, Said The Tensor. Tension, Apprehension, And Dissension Have Begun.

The Test Of Intellect Is The Refusal To Belabor The Obvious.

Don't Ask The World To Stop Moving Because You Have Doubts.