The only questions that really matter are the ones you ask yourself.

To oppose something is to maintain it.

To light a candle is to cast a shadow.

The creative adult is the child who has survived.

It is above all by the imagination that we achieve perception and compassion and hope.

We are volcanoes. When we women offer our experience as our truth, as human truth, all the maps change. There are new mountains.

It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it is the journey that matters in the end.

The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next.

What sane person could live in this world and not be crazy?

I doubt that the imagination can be suppressed. If you truly eradicated it in a child, he would grow up to be an eggplant.

There are no right answers to wrong questions.

The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live: a live thing, a story.

If science fiction is the mythology of modern technology, then its myth is tragic.

Morning comes whether you set the alarm or not.

Inventions have long since reached their limit, and I see no hope for further development.

Love does not just sit there, like a stone; it had to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.

My imagination makes me human and makes me a fool; it gives me all the world and exiles me from it.

The only questions that really matter are the ones you ask yourself.

If you see a whole thing – it seems that it’s always beautiful. Planets, lives… But up close a world’s all dirt and rocks. And day to day, life’s a hard job, you get tired, you lose the pattern.

There’s a good deal in common between the mind’s eye and the TV screen, and though the TV set has all too often been the boobtube, it could be, it can be, the box of dreams.

It had never occurred to me before that music and thinking are so much alike. In fact you could say music is another way of thinking, or maybe thinking is another kind of music.

When action grows unprofitable, gather information; when information grows unprofitable, sleep.

He is far too intelligent to become really cerebral.

If you want your writing to be taken seriously, don’t marry and have kids, and above all, don’t die. But if you have to die, commit suicide. They approve of that.

Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.