If this book has a lesson, it is that we are awfully lucky to be here-and by 'we' I mean every living thing. To attain any kind of life in this universe of ours appears to be quite an achievement. As humans we are doubly lucky, of course: We enjoy not only the privilege of existence but also the singular ability to appreciate it and even, in a multitude of ways, to make it better. It is a talent we have only barely begun to grasp.

Physics is really nothing more than a search for ultimate simplicity, but so far all we have is a kind of elegant messiness.

I love the feeling of being anonymous in a city I've never been before.

Language is more fashion than science, and matters of usage, spelling and pronunciation tend to wander around like hemlines.

To my mind, the greatest reward and luxury of travel is to be able to experience everyday things as if for the first time, to be in a position in which almost nothing is so familiar it is taken for granted.

As a rule of thumb, I would submit that if you need to call your floss provider, for any reason, you are probably not ready for this level of oral hygiene.

America is a great disappointment to me. As I said in one of my books, other societies create civilisations; we build shopping malls.