Don't worry about that, Man, just make out my ticket.
Most of human history had been industry versus nature, with industry winning.
Doctors don’t seem to realize that most of us are perfectly content not having to visualize ourselves as animated bags of skin filled with obscene glop.
I was too old-fashioned male-chauv to allow that; we discussed for a minute and I wound up with the couch
Saul's vitals were not human, but familiar:
Saul's vitals were not human, but familiar:he never told me he was from another world:I never told him I was from his future.
A good sign that an army has been around too long is that it starts getting top-heavy with officers.
I'm not quite Machiavellian enough to set him up, but if he strays too close to the edge I might give him a nudge.
The Aleph-Null campaign.
He's asleep in the harbor, disguised as dog shit.
[H]is skin was the color of age and his features the shape of a saint’s.
Heterosexuality is considered an emotional dysfunction. Relatively easy to cure.
Politicians cover their mistakes with money; cooks cover their mistakes with mayonnaise; doctors cover theirs with dirt.
Hemingway was a jerk. I mean he was really a great jerk. He was a good writer, and he did all sorts of things that I would never have the courage to do, but I don't think I'd enjoy being in the same r...
I die. O my hair falls out and my flesh rots and my bones are cracked by the hungry ta!a'an. He drops me behind him all around the forest and nothing will grow where his excrement from my marrow falls...
One rash person in the right place and earth could be a sterile cinder in seconds, but that's been more-or-less true for a century.
But they weren’t aliens, I had to remind myself — we were.
We're headed for Aleph-7. Panty raid. New slang term for the type of operation whose main object was to gather Tauran artifacts, and prisoners if possible. I tried to find out where the term came from...
You can't make a date in death's dateless night.
Bad books on writing tell you to "WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW", a solemn and totally false adage that is the reason there exist so many mediocre novels about English professors contemplating adultery.
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