Quotes from Harlan Ellison

It was the woman his finest instincts had needed to make them valid; the woman who not only gave to him, but to whom he could give; the woman of memory, of desire, of youth, of restlessness, of completion. A dream. And here, against the softspeaking bubbling water, a reality.

No es cierto que se tenga derecho a dar cualquier opinión. Se tiene derecho a dar una opinión INFORMADA. Nadie tiene derecho a ser ignorante.

The writer of swashbuckling adventures is a pathetic little homosexual who still lives with his invalid mother.

But that was twenty years ago, and with the exception of EQMM (still indisputably the fountainhead of significant mystery fiction throughout the civilized world), most of the magazines I listed above are dead. Crumbling yellow pulp relics in my files, dropping brittle little triangles from page corners.

Stomachs that were merely cauldrons of acid, bubbling, foaming, always shooting spears of sliver-thin pain into our chests. It was the pain of the terminal ulcer, terminal cancer, terminal paresis. It was unending pain … And we passed through the cavern of rats. And we passed through the path of boiling steam. And we passed through the country of the blind. And we passed through the slough of despond. And we passed through the vale of tears. And we came, finally, to the ice caverns.

In terms of labor relations, the basic problem with living your life is that it's on the-job training and by the time you get some skill at it, you're permanently laid off.

I look upon those who assure me they had a 'happy childhood' as either pathological liars, or pariahs.

These were the real substances of his nature, the true faces of his sins, the marks in the ledger of a life he had never had, yet had worshipped silently at an altar of evil.

Science fiction used to be a dangerous literature. Now, it is a very commercial genre, and whatever dangers might still lurk within seem to have been safely sanitized for the marketplace. The real crime is that the lobotomy has been self performed. I

Master Timekeeper: Not everyone thinks so. Most people enjoy order. Harlequin: I don't, and most of the people I know don't. Master Timekeeper: That's not true. How do you think we caught you? Harlequin: I'm not interested. Master Timekeeper: A girl named pretty Alice told us who you were. Harlequin: That's a lie. Master Timekeeper: It's true. You unnerve her. She wants to belong, she wants to conform, I'm going to turn you off.

These were the real substances of his nature, the true faces of his sins, the marks in the ledger of a life he had never had, yet had worshipped silently at an altar of evil. - Delusion for a Dragonslayer

I don't ever want to hear that scream outside my head.

No one gets through the dark and into the light by himself. So it becomes incumbent upon me to pass along the help, to do what I can for other writers trying to get a foot up.

Mark Twain said, "If one truly believes there is an all-powerful Deity, and one looks around at the condition of the universe, one is led inescapably to the conclusion that God is a malign thug." That's the quote that caused me to write "The Deathbird." It's a puzzle I cannot reason out.

If one is unable to buy Courvoisier, one should forcibly restrain oneself from serving strawberries Romanoff for dessert.

We had reached the moment of final nightness.

A TV producer is an ordinary human being who has made the mistake of falling asleep next to a big green pod filled with money. When he awakes again, he has been transformed into an alien thing that feeds on power, talent, and the blood of the innocent.

None of us knew why AM had saved five people, or why our specific five, or why he spent all his time tormenting us, nor even why he had made us virtually immortal …

Sul livello malva, accovacciato su onde di un magenta più scuro che nascondevano la sua forma arcuata, il pazzo attendeva.

When I leave here, will this shop vanish the way they do in the stories?" "I'm afraid so, yes." "Why do they always do that?" The old man sighed. "You know, you're the first one who ever asked me that." But

People on the outside think there's something magical about writing, that you go up in the attic at midnight and cast the bones and come down in the morning with a story, but it isn't like that. You sit in back of the typewriter and you work, and that's all there is to it.

DIscuss narking as a character flaw.

Poor lizards. What joys they missed. Had they not been so culturally deprived, they might have sunk into the swamps in a mere three thousand years.

Er war eine Persönlichkeit geworden, etwas, das sie vor vielen Jahrzehnten aus dem System herausgefiltert hatten.