I suspect that the word (art) was invented by second-rate intelligences to describe the incomprehensible activities of their betters.

Right now I'm so old that if I had a big gush of money, I don't know what I'd do with it. I don't travel anymore. I don't need anything, don't want anything. I'd give it to my son, I guess, and let him enjoy it.

This is no science, this is art, where equations fall away to elements like resolving chords, and where always prevails a symmetry either explicit or multiplex, but always of a crystalline serenity.

The universe is eight billion years old, the last two billion of which have produced intelligent life. During this time not one hour of absolute equity has prevailed.

I worked for half a cent a word. I'm not a fast writer to begin with, so for the first few years I had do other things.

Since we are not permitted to act, we are obliged to know.

Nothing is more conspicuous than a farting princess.