If the creator has a purpose in equipping us with a neck, he surely would have meant for us to stick it out.

Death tripped down the corridor, changing step, struck out here and there, danced pirouettes; often I felt his breath on my face when he was miles away; often I fell asleep and dreamed while he stood leaning over my bed.

...the temptation, which consisted of a single word written on the cemetary of the defeated: Sleep.

In creating the human brain, evolution has wildly overshot the mark.

There is only one prospect worse than being chained to an intolerable existence: The nightmare of a botched attempt to end it.

The Revolutionary's Utopia, which in appearance represents a complete break with the past, is always modeled on some image of the Lost Paradise, of a legendary Golden Age... All utopias are fed from the source of mythology; the social engineers' blueprints are merely revised editions of the ancient text.

Space-ships and time machines are no escape from the human condition.