Why have you given your life to books, TC? Dull, dull, dull! The memoirs are bad enough, but all that ruddy fiction! Hero goes on a journey, stranger comes to town, somebody wants something, they get...
Why tinker with the plain truth that we hurry the darker races to their graves in order to take their land & its riches? Wolves don’t sit in their caves, concocting crapulous theories of race to justi...
Why’s it okay to draw spaceships if you’re seven, but not okay to draw diabolical mazes? Who decides that spending money on Space Invaders is fine, but if you buy a calculator with loads of symbols yo...
With a story, as with a well-chosen gift, we’re happiest when surprised by something we didn’t know we wanted.
Without where I am from and who I am from, I am nothing, even if the glass is gone and conifers are growing through where the roof should be. All those wide-worlders in transit, all those misplaced, t...
Women, oh, women! They'll find the baddest meanin' in your words an' hold it up, sayin', Look what you attacked me with!
Words are very powerful and can lead anyone reading them or hearing them, into contemplation and insight. How the mind follows suit is rarely palpable or expected. This impact is not a matter of metap...
Words are what you fight with but what you fight about is whether or not you’re afraid of them.
Writing is such a damn lonely sickness.
Writing novels worth reading will bugger up your mind, jeopardize your relationships, and distend your life.
Writing poetry's,' I looked around the solarium, but Madame Crommelynck's got a tractor beam, 'sort of . . . gay.' 'Gay? A merry activity?' This was hopeless. 'Writing poems is . . . what creeps and p...
Writing’s a pathology, I say. I’d pack it in tomorrow, if I could.
Wrong turns teach us the right way.
Yay, Old Uns' Smart mastered sicks, miles, seeds an' made miracles ord'nary, but it din't master one thing, nay, a hunger in the hearts o' humans, yay, a hunger for more.More what? I asked. Old Uns'd...
Yay, when it came to faces, pretty lies was better'n scabbin' true
Yet for the first time in three days, I want something. I want the forest lord to turn me into a cedar. The very oldest islanders say that if you are in the interior mountains on the night when the fo...
Yet what are we without our addictions? Insipid. Flavourless.
Yet what is any ocean but a multitude of drops?
You & I, the moneyed, the privileged, the fortunate, shall not fare so badly in this world, provided our luck holds. What of it if our consciences itch? Why undermine the dominance of our race, our gu...
You are the man. You have to take your dignity and self respect to the pawnbrokers.
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