As Mark Twain said, 'I love Wagner -- if only they'd cut out all that damned singing!'

Of all the featherless beasts, only man, chained by his self-imposed slavery to the clock, denies the elemental fire and proceeds as best he can about his business, suffering quietly, martyr to his madness. Much to learn.

In the afternoon I watch the clouds drift past the bald peak of Mount Tukuhnikivats. (Someone has to do it.)

The world is what it is, no less and no more, and therein lies its entire and sufficient meaning.

God bless America. Let's try to save some of it.

We know this apodictic rock beneath our feet. That dogmatic sun above our heads. The world of dreams, the agony of love and the foresight of death. That is all we know. And all we need to know? Challenge that statement.

The best thing about graduating from the university was that I finally had time to sit on a log and read a good book.