A Man Could Get Used To Anything

Memory Was Such A Worthless Thing, Really. Nothing It Dealt With Was Attainable. It Was Concerned With Phantom Acts And Feelings, With All That Was Uncapturable Except In Thought. It Was Without Satisfaction.

In A Typical Desperation For Quick Answers, Easily Understood, People Had Turned To Primitive Worship As The Solution. With Less Than Success. Not Only Had They Died As Quickly As The Rest Of The People, But They Had Died With Terror In Their Hearts, With A Mortal Dread Flowing In Their Very Veins.

I Think What Dreams May Come Is The Most Important (read Effective) Book I've Written. It Has Caused A Number Of Readers To Lose Their Fear Of Death The Finest Tribute Any Writer Could Receive. ... Somewhere In Time Is My Favorite Novel.

Robert Neville Looked Out Over The New People Of The Earth. He Knew He Did Not Belong To Them; He Knew That, Like The Vampires, He Was Anathema And Black Terror To Be Destroyed. And, Abruptly, The Concept Came, Amusing To Him Even In His Pain. ... Full Circle. A New Terror Born In Death, A New Superstition Entering The Unassailable Fortress Of Forever. I Am Legend.

I'm Sitting In My Office Trying To Squeeze A Story From My Head. It Is That Kind Of Morning When You Feel Like Melting The Typewriter Into A Bar Of Steel And Clubbing Yourself To Death With It. (“advance Notice”)