Historically, I Guess That's How Science Fiction

What You Are Will Make You What You Will Become.

A Poet Is Wounded Into Speech, And He Examines These Wounds, Meticulously, To Discover How To Heal Them. The Bad Poet Harangues At The Pain And Yowls At The Weapons That Lacerate Him; The Great Poet Explores The Inflamed Lips Of Ruined Flesh With Ice-caked Fingers, Glittering And Precise; But Ultimately His Poem Is The Echoing, Dual Voice Reporting The Damages.

Don't Go Chattering To The Stars If You're Going To Do It With Your Eyes Closed.

The Idea That Certain Things In Life - And In The Universe - Don't Yield Up Their Secrets Is Something That Requires A Slightly More Mature Reader To Accept.

I Think Of Myself As A Very Lazy Writer, Though Other People See It Differently.