The Earth is beautiful, and bright, and kindly, but that is not all. The Earth is also terrible, and dark, and cruel.

It's probably simply a matter of temperament that I never stopped to wonder if I could "match" what I had done, never choked off my writing by competing with myself, or with anybody else for that matter. My ambition was absolutely centered on the work itself, never on what it would bring me, or "who" it would make me. I never cared about that at all.

This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.

If it were proven that there is no God there would be no religion. ...But also if it were proven that there is a God, there would be no religion.

Almost anything carried to a logical extreme becomes depressing.

What the brain does by itself is infinitely more fascinating and complex than any response it can make to chemical stimulation.

Age and illness made one a dualist