The wonderful thing about man; he never gets so discouraged or disgusted that he gives up doing it all over again, because he knows very well it is important and worth the doing.
Les livres ne racontent rien. Rien que tu puisse croire ou enseigner aux autre. Si ce sont des romans, ils parlent d'êtres qui n'existent pas, de produits de l'imagination. Dans le cas contraire, c'es...
Had begun to cry, not at death but at the thought of not crying at death, a silly empty man
First time I realized that a man was behind each one of the books. A man had to think them up. A man had to take a long time to put them down on paper.
Custodians of our peace of mind, the focus of our understandable and rightful dread of being inferior; official censors, judges, and executors.
You're out there, Lespere. It's all over. It's just as if it had never happened, isn't it?No.When anything's over, it's just like it never happened. Where's your life any better than mine, now? Now is...
You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I KNOW. When I talk, you look at me. When I said something about the moon, you looked at the moon, last night. The others would never do that. The others w...
You don't know what it is. Every time I'm out there I think, 'If I ever get back to Earth I'll stay there; I'll never go out again.' But I go out, and I guess I'll always go out.
Women never wake then, do they? They sleep the sleep of babes and children.
Who wants to see the Future, who ever does? A man can face the Past, but to think—the pillars crumbled, you say? And the sea empty, and the canals dry, and the maidens dead, and the flowers withered?...
Where are my two precious human books so I may turn their pages, aye?
What should I do?Throw up in your typewriter every morning.Yeah.Clean up every noon.
What more easily explained and natural? With school turning out more runners, jumpers, racers, tinkerers, grabbers, snatchers, fliers, and swimmers instead of examiners, critics, knowers, and imaginat...
What do you do, go around trying everything once?' he asked.'Sometimes twice,...
What are we? he asked. Why, we are the miracle of force and matter making itself over into imagination and will. Incredible. The Life Force experimenting with forms. You for one. Me for another. The U...
We won’t ruin Mars, said the captain. It’s too big and too good. You think not? We Earth Men have a talent for ruining big, beautiful things. The only reason we didn’t set up hot-dog stands in the mid...
We never sit anything out. We are cups, quietly and constantly being filled. The trick is knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out.
We earth men have a talent for ruining big, beautiful things.
We all have our harps to play. And it's up to you now to know with which ear you'll listen.
Was there, then, no strength in growing up? No solace in being an adult? No sanctuary in life? No fleshly citadel strong enough to withstand the scrabbling assault of midnights?