One can live with the thought of one's own death. It is the thought of the death of the words and books that is terrifying for that is the deeper extinction.

For now, we assume that self-evolving robots will learn to mimic human traits, including, eventually, humor. And so, I can't wait to hear the first joke that one robot tells to another robot.

A day cannot live in infamy without the nourishment of rage. Let's have rage.

The real 1960s began on the afternoon of November 22, 1963. It came to seem that Kennedy's murder opened some malign trap door in American culture, and the wild bats flapped out.

Everywhere you hang your hat is home. Home is the bright cave under the hat.

Never try to wear a hat that has more character than you do.

Handwriting is civilization's casual encephalogram.