In all of nature, there is no sound more pleasing than that of a hungry animal at its feed. Unless you are the food.
The hawk’s cry is as sharp as its beak.
Every man should be his own guru; every woman her own gurette.
Roosters: The cry of the male chicken is the most barbaric yawp in all of nature.
The world is what it is, no less and no more, and therein lies its entire and sufficient meaning.
Pure science is a myth: Both mathematical theoreticians like Albert Einstein and practical crackpots like Henry Ford dealt with different aspects of the same world.
The one great gift to humankind from our nuclear physicists has been the nuclear bomb. How can we ever thank them?
You long for success? Start at the bottom; dig down.
For women, the sexual act is a means to a higher end. For a man, it is an end in itself.
I’d sooner exchange ideas with the birds on earth than learn to carry on intergalactic communications with some obscure race of humanoids on a satellite planet from the world of Betelgeuse.
There are two kinds of people I cannot abide: bigots and any well-organized ethnic group.
Don’t talk to me about other worlds, separate realities, lost continents or invisible realms – I know where I belong. Heaven is home. Utopia is here. Nirvana is now.
But it is a writer’s duty to write and speak and record the truth, always the truth, no matter whom may be offended.
To be alive is to take risks; to be always safe and secure is death.
One single act of defiance against power, against the State that seems omnipotent but is not, transforms and transfigures the human personality. At least for a time. For a while. Perhaps that is enough.
Our ‘neoconservatives’ are neither new nor conservative, but old as Bablyon and evil as Hell.
I would not sacrifice a single living mesquite tree for any book ever written. One square mile of living desert is worth a hundred ‘great books’ – and one brave deed is worth a thousand.
That which today calls itself science gives us more and more information, and indigestible glut of information, and less and less understanding.
If the end does not justify the means – what can?
Put the park rangers to work. Lazy scheming loafers, they’ve wasted too many years selling tickets at toll booths and sitting behind desks filling out charts and tables.