It Is Amazing That When Someone Else

No Structure, Even An Artificial One, Enjoys The Process Of Entropy. It Is The Ultimate Fate Of Everything, And Everything Resists It.

What A Tragic Realm This Is, He Reflected. Those Down Here Are Prisoners, And The Ultimate Tragedy Is That They Don't Know It; They Think They Are Free Because They Have Never Been Free, And Do Not Understand What It Means.

He Felt All At Once Like An Ineffectual Moth, Fluttering At The Windowpane Of Reality, Dimly Seeing It From Outside.

I Was Twelve When I Read My First Sf Magazine

They Wanted To Have A Good Time, But They Were Like Children Playing In The Street; They Could See One After Another Of Them Being Killed--run Over, Maimed, Destroyed--but They Continued To Play Anyhow.