In A World In Which

Except For A God Who Sits Down After The Universe Begins, All Other Gods Conflict With The Assumptions Of Science.

I Think What Gets You Through A Small Writing Project, Is Just One Burst Of Inspiration. A Book, Especially A Longer Book, It's A Different Kind Of Force That Pushes You Through It. It's A Vision Of The Whole Thing.

If A Person Holds No Ambitions In This World, He Suffers Unknowingly. If A Person Holds Ambitions, He Suffers Knowingly, But Very Slowly.

In Our Constant Search For Meaning In This Baffling And Temporary Existence, Trapped As We Are Within Our Three Pounds Of Neurons, It Is Sometimes Hard To Tell What Is Real. We Often Invent What Isn't There. Or Ignore What Is. We Try To Impose Order, Both In Our Minds And In Our Conceptions Of External Reality. We Try To Connect. We Try To Find Truth. We Dream And We Hope. And Underneath All Of These Strivings, We Are Haunted By The Suspicion That What We See And Understand Of The World Is Only A Tiny Piece Of The Whole.

I Should Have Written Books Instead Of Reading Them.