The Gods, After All, Are Only Human,

Creativeness Is Finding Patterns Where None Exist.

Genius Is An Infinite Capacity For Pain.

Let Me Tell You About The End Of The World. It Happened Fifty Years Ago. Maybe A Hundred. And Since Then It's Been Lovely. I Mean It. Nobody Tries To Bother You. You Can Relax. You Know What? I Like The End Of The World.

The Distances Between The Stars Seem Brief By Contrast To The Distances Between Each Of Us And His Fellows.

Gene Wolfe Has Produced A Work Of Art That Can Satisfy Adult Appetites And In Which Even The Most Fantastical Elements Register As Poetry Rather Than As Penny-whistle Whimsy.