Game design requires idealism, the ability to pick out what’s important and depict that, rather than try to depict all of a situation.

I worry about the history; the mechanics take care of themselves.

There are three kinds of complexity. There is the actual mechanical complexity of the game. [...] Then there is [...] teaching complexity. [...] And the third level is what I call decision complexity, the actual strategic game itself.

Poker dice, astrological dice, random-direction dice, Dragon Dice, glow-in-the-dark spooky dice, giant dice, tiny dice, every shape, shade and size—dice don’t have to be wine-colored to get me drunk on them.

A major part of good design is avoiding situations where a user can easily screw up. "User error" often means, poor design.

When reading a new rule book, I’m engaged, excited, and retaining everything hungrily until I hit the first exception. At that point, the rules have picked a fight with my memory and are fighting back against me understanding and internalizing the rules.

One big point in games that I like is the possibility to be as deep as possible in the game and forget about what is outside the game I play.

Be rigorous in defining your hypothesis. A model/wargame will eat you alive if you are sloppy.

Indeed, the right playing time for any game is when it ends before getting boring!

Games in which all players pursue the same strategy result in a win by the player who makes the fewest mistakes—or, if none, by the player who has the player-order advantage. This is dull.