We express disappointment in everything except ourselves.

Thinking about the universe has now been handed over to specialists. The rest of us merely read about it.

Curiosity, easily frightened, takes refuge in puzzles, murder mysteries, and spectator sports.

When science drove the gods out of nature, they took refuge in poetry and the porticos of civic buildings.

Scepticism is always a back road leading to some credo or other.

Nature often seems like an idea that has had its day.

Hatred makes me energetic, but confused.