Death is impatient and thoughtless. It barges into your room when you are right in the middle of something, and it doesn't bother to wipe its boots.

To achieve the impossible; it is precisely the unthinkable that must be thought.

Be your own flying saucer! Rescue yourself!

Christians, and some Jews, claim we're in the "end times," but they've been saying this off and on for more than two thousand years.

If you need to visualize the soul, think of it as a cross between a wolf howl, a photon and a dribble of dark molasses. But what it really is, as near as I can tell, is a packet of information. It's a program, a piece of hyperspatial software designed explicitly to interface with the Mystery. Not a mystery, mind you - the Mystery. The one that can never be solved.

Life is like a stew, you have to stir it frequently, or all the scum rises to the top.

There's probably no subject with quite so many conflictin' opinions about it as there are about food, and 'tis better to swap bubble gum with a rabid bulldog than challenge a single one o' the varyin' beliefs your average human holds about nutrition.