As they made their way to the coast, he bemoaned the hotel trade in the manner, Dorrigo felt, that those who love what they do bemoan their passion the most.

A good book ... leaves you wanting to reread the book. A great book compels you to reread your own soul.

What was a prisoner of war anyway? Less than a man, just material to be used to make the railway, like the teak sleepers and steel rails and dog spikes.

In trying to escape the fatality of memory, he discovered with an immense sadness that pursuing the past inevitably only leads to greater loss.

The more people I am with, Dorrigo thought, the more alone I feel.

Virtue was vanity dressed up and waiting for applause.

Sometimes the end is only a beginning

I wondered if all a person could hope for was illusion and luck, for I was forced to conclude that the world was fundamentally and appallingly dangerous. It is a lesson I will never forget.

I never enjoyed working in a film.

No one can solve an issue where there is no economic model yet.

But I think, and hope, that the novels can be understood and enjoyed as science fiction, on their own terms.

Hello again, everybody... It's a bee-yoo-tiful day for baseball.

Not all who hesitate are lost. The psyche has many secrets in reserve. And these are not disclosed unless required.

The biggest lies we save for ourselves.

Sara held up a hand. 'How exactly did you "decline" his offer?' 'By slitting his throat.

In the city, a lot of crime happens, a lot of violence happens from time to time.