There was a small boy on crutches. I do not know his name, and I suspect I never will. But I will never forget his face, his smile, his sorrow. He is one of the millions robbed of hope and dignity by charlatans discussed in this book. Wherever and whoever he is, I apologize to him for not having been able to protect him from such an experience. I humbly dedicate this book to him and to the many others who have suffered because the rest of us began caring too late.

Feeling better is not actually being better.

People who are smart get into Mensa. People who are really smart look around and leave.

I want to be cremated, and I want my ashes blown in Uri Geller's eyes.

I do not expect that homeopathy will ever be established as a legitimate form of treatment, but I do expect that it will continue to be popular.

I am in a very peculiar business: I travel all over the world telling people what they should already know.

One thing that has made a big comeback just recently is this business of speaking with the dead. To my innocent mind, 'dead' implies incapable of communicating.