Something is always happening, even on the quietest days and deep into the night, if you stand a while and look.

Clouds are no deterrent. Clouds intensify the drama, trap and shape the light.

Too much has been forgotten in the name of memory.

It is interesting ... how weapons reflect the soul of the maker.

Certainly I've never tried to imagine what the future will hold. It's a hopeless endeavor to try to do such a thing.

Freud is finished, Einstein's next.

To plot is to live. […] We start out lives in chaos, in babble. As we surge up into the world, we try to devise a shape, a plan. There is dignity in this. Your whole life is a plot, a scheme, a diagram. It is a failed scheme but that's not the point. To plot is to affirm life, to seek shape and control. Even after death, most particularly after death, the search continues. Burial rites are an attempt to complete the scheme, in ritual. Picture a state funeral, Jack. It is all precision, detail, order, design. The nation holds its breath. - (WN 292)