Praises for our past triumphs are as feathers to a dead bird.

We endeavor to stuff the universe into the gullet of an aphorism.

Jealousy would be far less torturous if we understood that love is a passion entirely unrelated to our merits.

Reading the epitaphs, our only salvation lies in resurrecting the dead and burying the living.

I was a kinesiology major in college, which is exercise science. Then, I was either going to get my Ph.D. or go to medical school, but I was kind of burned out after school.

I am always struck by the fact that human awareness of our place in nature, like so much of modern science, began with the Industrial Revolution.

In an age of molecular genomics, it is ever more apparent that the fingerprints of evolution are pressed deeply into human DNA, just as they are into the genomes of every other organism. Biologists understand this, and so do students who study the science of life.

There are children playing in the streets who could solve some of my top problems in physics, because they have modes of sensory perception that I lost long ago.