Where would Jesus be if no one had written the gospels?

Waiters will always pee in soup, people will always fall in love.

I can become someone else, not out of pressure and desperation, but merely because a new life sounds fun or interesting or joyful.

For thousands of years, human beings had screwed up and trashed and crapped on this planet, and now history expected me to clean up after everyone. I have to wash out and flatten my soup cans. And account for every drop of used motor oil. And I have to foot the bill for nuclear waste and buried gasoline tanks and landfilled toxic sludge dumped a generation before I was born.

Since change is constant, you wonder if people crave death because it's the only way they can get anything really finished.

I spent my life attacking everything because I was too afraid to risk creating anything.

Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish.