The average attention span of the modern human being is about half as long as whatever youre trying to tell them.

I guess there was a war going on somewhere in the world that night but it wasn't one that could touch us.

It's not that he lacked poetry. But his poetry was of the body, not the mind. He spoke it in the way he moved, the way he held a hammer, rowed a boat, built a fire. I, on the other hand, was like a brain in a box, a beating heart in a coal scuttle.

I don't get nearly enough credit in life for the things I manage not to say.

I'd like to think life has improved since 1850, despite the long hours we all seem to spend slaving over hot computers, but the psychological journeys remain the same - the search for love, identity, a meaningful place in the world.

I give thanks for all that has passed, for all that is passing, and for all that is yet to come.

I, a late riser, fantasise about getting up every morning at 5 A.M. to fetch the horses in from the fields.