I rebel against death, yet I know that it is how I respond to death's inevitability that is going to make me less or more fully alive.

The minute we begin to think we have all the answers, we forget the questions.

I don't know if they're really like everybody else, or if they're able to pretend they are.

Maybe you have to know the darkness before you can appreciate the light.

We don't want to feel less when we have finished a book; we want to feel that new possibilities of being have been opened to us. We don't want to close a book with a sense that life is totally unfair and that there is no light in the darkness; we want to feel that we have been given illumination.

I share Einstein's affirmation that anyone who is not lost in rapturous awe at the power and glory of the mind behind the universe "is as good as a burnt out candle."

Behind the violence of the birthing of galaxies and stars and planets came a quiet and tender melody, a gentle love song. All the raging of creation, the continuing hydrogen explosions on the countless suns, the heaving of planetary bodies, all was enfolded in a patient, waiting love.