All the fantasy writers I know have a way of dwelling on their own fears and phobias. A writer spends his life being his own psychiatrist. — Charles Beaumont Copy Share Image
“A cold wind raced across the surrounding fields of wild grass, turning the land into a heaving dark-green ocean. It sighed up through the… — Charles Beaumont Copy Share Image
I thought that beauty alone would satisfy, but the soul is gone. I can’t bear those empty, staring eyes. — Charles Beaumont Copy Share Image
All the fantasy writers I know have a way of dwelling on their own fears and phobias. A writer spends his life being his… — Charles Beaumont Copy Share Image
“I took my solo and beat hell out of the skins. Then Spoof swiped at his mouth and let go with a blast and… — Charles Beaumont Copy Share Image
“Came Honker's trip to Slice City along about then: our sax-man got a neck all full of the sharpest kind of steel. So we… — Charles Beaumont Copy Share Image
You know, there's a certain irony in the fact that our lives and perhaps the lives of everyone on Earth may depend on Captain… — Charles Beaumont Copy Share Image
“Then it was horn time. Time for the big solo. Sonny lifted the trumpet - One! Two! - He got it into sight -… — Charles Beaumont Copy Share Image
“He stopped and leaned against a pole and looked up at the deaf and swollen sky. It was a movement of dark shapes, a… — Charles Beaumont Copy Share Image
