The Universe forces those who live in it to understand it. Those creatures who find everyday experience a muddled jumble of events with no predictability, no regularity, are in grave peril. The Universe belongs to those who, at least to some degree, have figured it out.

Better the hard truth, I say, than the comforting fantasy.

We are made of stellar ash. Our origin and evolution have been tied to distant cosmic events. The exploration of the cosmos is a voyage of self-discovery.

Not explaining science seems to me perverse. When you're in love, you want to tell the world.

Frederick Douglas taught that literacy is the path from slavery to freedom. There are many kinds of slavery and many kinds of freedom, but reading is still the path.

Extraordinary observations require extraordinary evidence to make them believable.

The open road still softly calls, like a nearly forgotten song of childhood