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If there ever comes a day when I deliberately embrace ignorance, I’ll have lived one day too long.

History is the world’s most egotistical gossip.

The hotel offered a complimentary continental breakfast. My first thought upon seeing it was rather less than complimentary.

You want to know if it was worth it. I can’t answer that, Isaac. We can know what was, but not what might have been.

“This is the worst excess of conjecture and wishful thinking,” snapped Jackson. “We don’t know if Isaac is capable of any of this.”

“He believes he is,” said Bi Wei.

“I once met a woman who believed she was abducted by aliens who looked like the Teletubbies,” Jackson shot back. “That doesn’t make it true.”

“It’s not going to come to that,” I said.

“Nobody ever believes it will,” so the driver. “That’s why it does.”

I had said before that all stories were magic. It had never occurred to me that all magic was stories.

“Hey, I’m just playing devil’s advocate.”

“Since when did the devil need your help?”

Change is a difficult, often violent process, both for individuals and for whole species. The more rapidly change, the uglier the conflict.

Young Isaac had dreamed of fame.

Young Isaac was an idiot.

Modern fantasy is little more than juvenile escapism and anachronistic longing for a time that never existed. I’ve never understood the appeal.

Do you remember the moment you first realize you were mortal? That no matter what happened, you would never live long enough to read every book you wanted to read? That you’d die having accomplished only a fraction of your goals?