[t]here Is One And Only One Way

How Withered Away One Can Be From A Life Of Unremitting Toil.

Science Fiction, As I Mentioned Before, Writes About What Is Neither Impossible Nor Possible; The Fact Is That, When The Question Of Possibility Comes Up In Science Fiction, The Author Can Only Reply That Nobody Knows. We Haven't Been There Yet. We Haven't Discovered That Yet. Science Fiction Hasn't Happened.

Minority Art, Vernacular Art, Is Marginal Art. Only On The Margins Does Growth Occur.

... Chastity Is Not Given Once And For All Like A Wedding Ring That Is Put On Never To Be Taken Off, But Is A Garden Which Each Day Must Be Weeded, Watered, And Trimmed Anew, Or Soon There Will Be Only Brambles And Wilderness.

The Demon Got Up. The Demon Said Fool. To Think You Can Eat Their Food And Not Talk To Them. To Think You Can Take Their Money And Not Be Afraid Of Them. To Think You Can Depend On Their Company And Not Suffer From Them.