This thing called curiosity. . . it's a scary thing.
Promiscuous. . . was a word I had never applied to myself. Possibly no one ever does, for it is a sordid word, reducing many valuable moments to nothing more than doglike copulation.
The earth we abuse and the living things we kill will, in the end, take their revenge; for in exploiting their presence we are diminishing our future.
Euthanasia. . . is simply to be able to die with dignity at a moment when life is devoid of it.
I would call an intellectual one whose instrument of work - his mind - is also his major source of pleasure; a man whose entertainment is his intelligence.
We pity or condemn the communist peoples of the world for being bound in the chains of doctrine. So are we. Our doctrine runs as follows: Our Way is the Only Way.
People on horses look better than they are. People in cars look worse than they are.
Dust in an urn long since, dispersed and dead Is great Apollo; and the happier he
The terrorists thought they would change my aims and stop my ambitions, but nothing changed in my life except this: weakness, fear and hopelessness died. Strength, power and courage was born.
I measure in my palm and use my eyes to estimate amounts; a tablespoon is a full palm of dried spices.
our world requires that decisions be sourced and footnoted, and if we say how we feel, we must also be prepared to elaborate on why we feel that way. . . We need to respect the fact that it is possible to know without knowing why we know and accept that - sometimes - we're better off that way.