Artists Recognize Other Artists As Soon As

But I Think, And Hope, That The Novels Can Be Understood And Enjoyed As Science Fiction, On Their Own Terms.

War Must Never Be A Condition But, Rather, A Temporary Scourge Which We Suffer As A Child Does A Fever, Knowing That Health Follows The Long Night Of Pain And That Peace Is Health.

Want To Talk About Shakespeare's Sonnets?" Asked Orphu Of Io. Are You Shitting Me?" The Moravecs Loved The Ancient Human Colloquial Phrases, The More Scatological The Better. Yes," Said Orphu. "i Am Most Definitely Shitting You, My Friend.

Mystery. The Strangeness Of Place So Necessary To Some Creative Spirits. A Perfect Mixture Of The Classical Utopia And The Pagan Mystery.

The Beauty Of That June Day Was Almost Staggering. After The Wet Spring, Everything That Could Turn Green Had Outdone Itself In Greenness And Everything That Could Even Dream Of Blooming Or Blossoming Was In Bloom And Blossom. The Sunlight Was A Benediction. The Breezes Were So Caressingly Soft And Intimate On The Skin As To Be Embarrassing.