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The enemy gate is down.

For some strange reason, probably having to do with the moon shot, UFOs and the accoustic quality of the snow-laden air, her voice seemed to boom out across the water as if she were leading cheers...

You remind me of the babe.What babe?The babe with the power.What power?The power of voodoo.Who do?You do.

None of us could be happy for long, doing nothing.

But it was on now, humming to life: a flicker, an adjustment of the dial, a new announcer, his voice shaken and hollow. Then the first image appeared, and it was devastating, the real world, the world...

You remind me of a man.What?A man with the power?

And music. What would a wedding be without it?

He wanted enlightenment just as she did, just as they all did. Right, he said, handing her back the flyer, but where do I park?

The earth was running out of resources, global warming was beginning to be recognized as science fact and not science fiction, and if man was to evolve to play a part in things instead of being just...

She was wearing some sort of fur hat pulled down to her eyes and a raccoon coat over a flesh-colored body stocking. And boots. Red, blue, yellow and orange frilled and spangled high-heeled cowgirl...

For weeks in advance of the date he would storm and rage and fulminate about the inequity of it all, and the old contumacious fire-breathing spirit arose like a phoenix from the ashes of his...

crossed the room and lit a cigarette, though smoking was discouraged on campus and about as stupid and self-destructive an activity as anything our species has devised.

How could I forget? I'm her godmother.' Sasha knew Claire so well, knew she needed a moment now, some space to think, so she didn't press. But she was far from finished with the problem. 'Have you...

At that, Jeremias idly swung the war club to his shoulder, where the weight of the ball bowed it like the arm of a catapult. The door stood open still and the elemental scent of the land rose to his...

But for now-for this thumping, glorious, wind-scoured moment-he was sailing.

..."Charming people, when not actively shooting one another," a friend had once said, which was so unkind, but, like so many unkind comments, had a grain of truth in it. They shoot one another and had...

If those committed to the quest fail, they will be forgiven. The moral imperative of humanism is the endeavor alone, whether successful or not, provided the effort is honorable and the failure...

as isolated and alone as if I'd been abandoned on the Patagonian ice cap and left to fend for myself.

fraction of a second, before asking

Perhaps it is a human thing, to look upon such beauty and fail to encompass it.

If you listen very carefully, you can hear the good fairy come in the night and leave our assignment for tomorrow.

The first time they'd docked at Peterskill there'd been a bunch of jerks waiting for them with signs that read WAKE UP, AMERICA: PETERSKILL DID!, and at Cold Spring a troop of big-armed women in what...

My greatest strength is to have a great capacity to confront myself no matter how unpleasant. My greatest weakness is that I don't. I know that's enigmatic, but that's sort of a general formula for...

All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped.

We need a Napoleon. An Alexander. Except that Napoleon lost in the end, and Alexander flamed out and died young. We need a Julius Caesar, except that he made himself a dictator, and died for it.

You can't be serious," he said. "You mean this is the big secret, this is why you screwed us all over-because of some forgotten shit that went down hundreds of years ago?

they were convicted of high treason and armed rebellion against the authority of the Crown {the brick constituting, for Stephanus' purposes, a potentially lethal weapon-lethal, in any case, to...

The simplest questions are the most difficult.

tries, and tries very hard, but she doesn't know what it's like to be the sole survivor, the only one left of one's contemporaries. They've all gone now. They're all dead and buried. My dearest...

Peter, you're twelve years old. I'm ten. They have a word for people our age. They call us children and they treat us like mice.

I did that on purpose,' Lucille Miller told Erwin Sprengle later, 'to save myself from letting my heart do something crazy.

They caught him again, at the foot of the woods, and he fought them with his teeth and his claws but they were bigger, stronger, and they carried him back as they always had and always would because...

What goes around comes around.