I Am Not Being Obtuse. You Are

Well," He Sighed To No One In Particular, And Looked Up Into Yet Another Alien Sky. "here We Are Again.

I Still Find It Hard To Understand That Anyone Could Argue That You Can't Have Machines That Exhibit Consciousness.

I Am Not Being Obtuse. You Are Being Paranoid.

It Was The Day My Grandmother Exploded.

Writing Is Like Everything Else: The More You Do It The Better You Get. Don't Try To Perfect As You Go Along, Just Get To The End Of The Damn Thing. Accept Imperfections. Get It Finished And Then You Can Go Back. If You Try To Polish Every Sentence There's A Chance You'll Never Get Past The First Chapter.