Reality Is Just A Point Of View.

A Man Is An Angel That Has Gone Deranged.

Maybe Each Human Being Lives In A Unique World, A Private World Different From Those Inhabited And Experienced By All Other Humans. . . If Reality Differs From Person To Person, Can We Speak Of Reality Singular, Or Shouldn't We Really Be Talking About Plural Realities? And If There Are Plural Realities, Are Some More True (more Real) Than Others?

It Is Futile To Try To Make The Universe Add Up. But I Guess We Must Go On Anyhow.

A Weird Time In Which We Are Alive. We Can Travel Anywhere We Want, Even To Other Planets. And For What? To Sit Day After Day, Declining In Morale And Hope.

I Started Reading Sf When I Was About Twelve And I Read All I Could, So Any Author Who Was Writing About That Time, I Read. But There's No Doubt Who Got Me Off Originally And That Was A. E. Van Vogt.