About First Landing by Robert Zubrin: Someday I'd like to read a story about competent people on Mars.

After enough concussions the head injuries blur together.

"Gun-wielding recluse gunned down by local police" isn't the epitaph I want. I am hoping for "Witnesses reported the sound up to two hundred kilometers away" or "Last body part finally located".

You may have trouble getting permission to aero or lithobrake asteroids on Earth.

I believe that I have now experienced the lifetime maximum exposure to bottom spanking in fantasy novels.

[Elizabeth Moon's] antagonists are always evil moustache-twirlers. She could write a book about a golf open and the main rival to the hero would turn out to have clubs made from compressed kittens.

english doesn't borrow from other languages. english follows other languages down dark alleys, knocks them over and goes through their pockets for loose grammar.

Never bring a gun to a fight where the other guy has a time-machine and tomorrow's newspapers.

I can't help but notice that everytime I fly somewhere, other people's planes fall out of the sky.

Most of my scars are not fire-related and I no longer say "I know what I am doing" at critical moments.

Deadly nightshade is the only plant I have ever been able to get to grow for me.

You will never get to the irreducible definition of anything because you will never be able to explain why you want to explain, and so on. The system will gobble itself up.

I know you weren’t born to make people happy, but if you did one day someone else will make you happy too.

The summer day is closed, the sun is set: Well they have done their office, those bright hours, The latest of whose train goes softly out In the red west.

Today, you always know whether you are on the Internet or on your PC's hard drive. Tomorrow, you will not care and may not even know.

In Fleet Street, in Fleet Street, the People are so fleet, They barely touch the cobble-stones with their nimble feet!

You have to pick the right tool for the point you're trying to make and there is no one solution.

Sometimes I think more creativity is put into muffin recipes than into the rest of society combined.

Stars have their moments then they die.

Celibacy is not a matter of compulsion. Someone is accepted as a priest only when he does it of his own accord.

Is there anybody out there that will point to Hillary Clinton and say, "Gosh, my life is so much better because of her"? Why aren't they on stage?