When You Give Each Other Everything, It

War Is Not Its Own End, Except In Some Catastrophic Slide Into Absolute Damnation. It's Peace That's Wanted. Some Better Peace Than The One You Started With.

A True Vor, Miles Told Himself Severely, Does Not Bury His Face In His Liegewoman's Breasts And Cry--even If He Is At A Convenient Height For It.

I Have A Catch-phrase To Describe My Plot-generation Technique -- 'what's The Worst Possible Thing I Can Do To These People?'

Never Do Yourself, What You Can Con Professionals Into Doing For You.

They Stared At Her Curiously, And She Caught Snatches Of Conversation In Two Or Three Languages. It Wasn't Hard To Guess Their Content, And She Smiled A Bit Primly. Youth, It Appeared, Was Full Of Illusions As To How Much Sexual Energy Two People Might Have To Spare While Hiking Forty Or So Kilometers A Day, Concussed, Stunned, Diseased, On Poor Food And Little Sleep, Alternating Caring For A Wounded Man With Avoiding Becoming Dinner For Every Carnivore Within Range - And With A Coup To Plan For The End.