I was in too much haste, and now have no time left. - Ursula K. Le Guin

All they're trying to do is tell you what they're like, and what you're like — what's going on — what the weather is now, today, this moment, the rain, the sunlight, look! Open your eyes; listen, listen. That is what the novelists say. But they don't tell you what you will see and hear. All they can tell you is what they have seen and heard, in their time in this world, a third of it spent in sleep and dreaming, another third of it spent in telling lies. “The truth against the world!” — Yes. Certainly. Fiction writers, at least in their braver moments, do desire the truth: to know it, speak it, serve it.

Those who build walls are their own prisoners.

You have to help another person. But it's not right to play God with masses of people. To be God you have to know what you're doing. And to do any good at all, just believing you're right and your motives are good isn't enough.