I Wouldn't Overall Say That

When I Used To Play Golf. It's A Terrible Miserable Game. It's Incredibly Frustrating. In 18 Holes You Make 150 Horrible Shots Off In The Woods, In The Water...you Make One Good Shot And It Brings You Back The Next Time. With Writing A Long Book There Has To Be At Least One Bit That Has Some Magic In It That You Can Go Back To.

Science Is An Intellectual Journey, And To Me, It's Not The Destination, It's The Journeyto Get There. It's A Way Of Thinking And It's An Intellectual Curiosity, A Desire To Know How The World Works, And To Know What The Fundamental Principles Of The World Are, And To Know Our Place In It. I Think Once We Stop Asking Questions Like "what Is The Age Of The Universe," Or "how Are The Instructions Of Dna Carried Out On A Microscopic Level," Once We Stop Asking Questions Like That, We're Dead.

Events, Once Happened, Lose Reality, Alter With A Glance, A Storm, A Night. In Time, The Past Never Happened. But Who Could Know? Who Could Know That The Past Is Not As Solid As This Instant.

Nature Is Purposeless. Nature Simply Is. We May Find Nature Beautiful Or Terrible, But Those Feelings Are Human Constructions. Such Utter And Complete Mindlessness Is Hard For Us To Accept. We Feel Such A Strong Connection To Nature. But The Relationship Between Nature And Us Is One-sided. There Is No Reciprocity. There Is No Mind On The Other Side Of The Wall.

Each Person Who Gets Stuck In Time Gets Stuck Alone.