Time is liquid. One moment is no more important than any other and all moments quickly run away.

The big trouble with dumb bastards is that they are too dumb to believe there is such a thing as being smart.

That's one thing Earthlings might learn to do, if they tried hard enough: Ignore the awful times and concentrate on the good ones.

The name of the new religion, said Rumfoord, is The Church of God the Utterly Indifferent. . . The two chief teachings of this religion are these: Puny man can do nothing at all to help or please God Almighty, and Luck is not the hand of God.

There was a message written in pencil on the tiles by the roller towel. This was it: What is the purpose of life? Trout plundered his pockets for a pen or pencil. He had an answer to the question. But he had nothing to write with, not even a burnt match. So he left the question unanswered, but here is what he would have written, if he had found anything to write with: To be the eyes and ears and conscience of the Creator of the Universe, you fool.

If you're so smart, why aren't you rich?

Who is more to be pitied, a writer bound and gagged by policemen or one living in perfect freedom who has nothing more to say?