Writing Day And Night For Months… That’s

Rattle A Lawyer's Door And You Get More Lawyers.

Science Fiction Is A Dialogue, A Tennis Match, In Which The Idea Is Volleyed From One Side Of The Net To The Other. Ridiculous To Say That Someone 'stole' An Idea: No, No, A Thousand Times No. The Point Is The Volley, And How It's Carried, And What Statement Is Made By The Answering 'statement.' In Other Words — If Burroughs Initiates A Time-gate And Says It Works Randomly, And Then Norton Has Time Gates Confounded With The Perilous Seat, The Siege Perilous Of The Round Table, And Locates It In A Bar On A Rainy Night — Do You See Both The Humor And The Volley In The Tennis Match?

Deal With The Devil If The Devil Has A Constituency - And Don't Complain About The Heat.

Honor To The Earth," The Abbot Said, "honor To The Dead In The Passing Of The Year; Honor To The Living, In The Coming Of The New. A Great Year Passes Tonight. A New One Begins. Let The Good That Is Old Continue And Let The Rest Perish.

A Year Of Ending And Beginning, A Year Of Loss And Finding... And All Of You Were With Me Through The Storm. I Drink Your Health, Your Wealth, Your Fortune For Long Years To Come, And I Hope For Many More Days In Which We Can Gather Like This.