They were down on Kentron-Kosmon, an insignificant world. And yet, in the middle of Space-Port there (a cow pasture rather; it wasn't much of a spaceport) there was a nice plaque of electrum and on it was lettered: This is the Exact Center of the Universe.

Q: Didn't you mention somewhere that you were writing poetry before you were writing stories?

RAL: I was, but I didn't consider that commercial. Of course I have used a lot of those since then as chapter heads, and little verses I have scattered in. In fact I have used up all the good
ones.

Brannagan had been to more places than Finnegan had, including the same places. He had not only skirted the d'Entre-Casteau Islands, he had walked all over them. He had not only sailed through China Straits, he had dived in them for old wrecks. He had not only climbed the Cloudy Mountains, but had panned gold in their streams and dips.

Gaetan had always had a terrible finality about him. Was this his great sin — that he was already completed? I will intercede for him tonight in my own not entirely mechanical way. To be completed is to be finished in so many ways! May that twinkling man Gaetan be undone a little and saved.

The seven bad-humored and unfunny devils who eat ourselves and our narratives alive are Pretentiousness, Pomposity, Presumption, Pontificality, Pavoninity or Peacockery, Pornography, and Pride, these seven offenses to all life. They have oozed out from under the iron doors and then they have inflated themselves immeasurably.

Per­fec­tion is nearly al­ways im­possible, but it is never dif­fi­cult. Which is to say that if there is any dif­fi­culty to it, any lack of ease, then it has already failed of per­fec­tion. All per­fect things are easy. But they are not fre­quent.

The mar­ried life of Charles Peis­son and Dotty was per­fect. From the mo­ment that Charles re­turned to town, everything was per­fect. The mark of per­fec­tion is its very sim­pli­city. Charles had a knack for un­ty­ing knots, for resolv­ing dif­fi­culties. The knack does not con­sist of ig­nor­ing the dif­fi­culties nor in skirt­ing them. It doesn’t even con­sist of fa­cing them and con­quer­ing them in the old copy-book fash­ion, though ap­par­ently they are faced and conquered in an­other fash­ion. Or some of them are never conquered at all. Part of the idea is just not to be dif­fi­cult about dif­fi­culties.

If the rest of the idea were un­der­stood, then every­one would have per­fec­tion; and they do not.

Beware of those who manufacture final answers as they go along, of those who will catch you on their catch-phrases and let you perish in the traps. All the final answers were given in the beginning. They stand shining, above and beyond us, but they are always there to be seen. They may be too bright for us, they may be too clear for us. Well then, we must clarify our own eyes. Our task is to grow out until we reach them.