The Language Of My Books Has Shaped

We Commit Our Crimes At Night And Reveal Ourselves In The High Noon Of Studio Lights.

Sometimes A Thing That's Hard Is Hard Because You're Doing It Wrong. (point Omega)

We Feel Certain That The Extraterrestrial Message Is A Mathematical Code Of Some Kind. Probably A Number Code. Mathematics Is The One Language We Might Conceivably Have In Common With Other Forms Of Intelligent Life In The Universe. As I Understand It, There Is No Reality More Independent Of Our Perception And More True To Itself Than Mathematical Reality.

I Am Not Particularly Distressed By The State Of Fiction Or The Role Of The Writer. The More Marginal, Perhaps Ultimately The More Trenchant And Observant And Finally Necessary He'll Become.

We Live In An Age Of Rapid Mass Media, Television, Internet. They Determine Our Tempo, Not Books.