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

Religious hatreds tend to be merciless and absolute.

The kiss is a wordless articulation of desire whose object lies in the future, and somewhat to the south.

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.

Not to forgive is to be imprisoned by the past, by old grievances that do not permit life to proceed with new business.

Never forget the power of silence, that massively disconcerting pause which goes on and on and may last induce an opponent to babble and backtrack nervously.

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.