I Held My Crotch, Closed My Eyes

The Trouble With Writing Fiction Is That It Has To Make Sense, Whereas Real Life Doesn't.

"i Think I Know The Real Reason." "which Is?" "alcohol In The Dust Clouds. Goddamn Stuff Is Everywhere. Any Lousy Species Ever Invents The Telescope And The Spectroscope And Starts Looking In Between The Stars, What Do They Find?" He Knocked The Glass On The Table. "loads Of Stuff, But Much Of It Alcohol." He Drank From The Glass. "humanoids Are The Galaxy's Way Of Trying To Get Rid Of All That Alcohol."

I'm An Only Child So Am Happy With My Own Company And I Don't Really Get Lonely.

There's An Old Sysan Saying That The Soup Of Life Is Salty Enough Without Adding Tears To It.

A Guilty System Recognizes No Innocents.