I could say I believe in every drop of rain that . . . Well, I believe life is a Zen koan, that is, an unsolvable riddle. But the contemplation of that riddle--even though it cannot be solved--is, in itself, transformative. And if the contemplation is of high enough quality, you can merge with the divine.

As expected, you get his machine. Someday, even the "call of nature" will be answered by a machine.

If complexity doesn't beat you, paradox will.

Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is sign on as its accomplice.

Dip a slice of bread in batter. That's September: yellow, gold, soft and sticky. Fry the bread. Now you have October: chewier, drier, streaked with browns. The day in question fell somewhere in the middle of the french toast process.

You've heard of people calling in sick. You may have called in sick a few times yourself. But have you ever thought about calling in well

Hard times and funky living can season the soul, true enough, but joy is the yeast that makes it rise.