I. Asimov

by Isaac Asimov

Every writer, I am convinced, makes use of his own neuroses to the fullest possible extent in his writing.

in life I had gratified them in every way, and on their departure from me I had not one scrap of the guilt I would have experienced if I were conscious of having failed them. And I suspect that a loud and ostentatious sorrow has at its core a feeling of guilt.

There is nothing frightening about an eternal dreamless sleep. Surely it is better than eternal torment in Hell or eternal boredom in Heaven.

Ogden Nash wrote a line that I have always remembered: “The old men know when an old man dies.” With the years, that line has become ever more poignant to me. After all, an old person to one who has known him for a long time is not an “old person” but is much more likely to be thought of as the younger person who inhabits our memory, vigorous and vibrant. When an old person dies who has been a part of your life, it is part of your youth that dies. And though you survive yourself, you must watch death take away the world of your youth, little by little.