Oh my God," he said. "A kind word from Rose Hathaway. I can die a happy man.
Usually, I'm on the bus by now, having a beer and waiting for everyone else. This is cutting into my beer time.
You think you’re a very clever fellow, don’t you?” Saldur challenged. “No, Your Grace,” Merrick replied. “Clever is the man who makes a fortune selling dried-up cows, explaining how it saves the farmers the trouble of getting up every morning to milk them. I’m not clever—I’m a genius.
Science Fiction is a branch of children's literature.
Hope is the most sensitive part of a poor wretch's soul; whoever raises it only to torment him is behaving like the executioners in Hell who, they say, incessantly renew old wounds and concentrate their attention on that area of it that is already lacerated.
I've been blessed. God's looked out for me, so, I'm happy.