Let's sum up: an unknown number of enemies with unknown capabilities, supported by a gang of madmen, packs of attack animals, and superhumanly intelligent pocket change.
Modern economics and the welfare state borrowed heavily on the future.
Once you've grown up in space, moving on means moving out, not going back to Earth. Nobody wants to be a groundpounder.
When the chemistry is right, all the experiments work.
Any technology that does not appear magical is insufficiently advanced.
The peers just fill the air with their speeches. ""And from what I've seen, vice versa.
They will do anything for the worker, except become one.
We have entered a period of intolerance which combines, as it sometimes does in America, with a sugary taste for euphemism.
We always take credit for the good and attribute the bad to fortune.
The only term I won't accept is "genius. "
I do not think you should read about writing while you are writing.