If we long to believe that the stars rise and set for us, that we are the reason there is a Universe, does science do us a disservice in deflating our conceits?

The gears of poverty, ignorance, hopelessness and low self-esteem interact to create a kind of perpetual failure machine that grinds down dreams from generation to generation. We all bear the cost of keeping it running. Illiteracy is its linchpin.

Some racists still reject the plain testimony written in the DNA that all the races are not only human but nearly indistinguishable. . . .

Perhaps, in retrospect, there would be little motivation even for malevolent extraterrestrials to attack the Earth; perhaps, after a preliminary survey, they might decide it is more expedient just to be patient for a little while and wait for us to self-destruct.

The cure for a fallacious argument is a better argument, not the suppression of ideas.

For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.

Across the sea of space, the stars are other suns.