Creativity is great-but not in accounting.

Each waking day is a stage dominated for good or ill, comedy, farce, or tragedy, by a dramatis personae, the 'self', and so it will be until the curtain drops.

Swiftly the head mass becomes an enchanted loom where millions of flashing shuttles weave a dissolving pattern, always a meaningful pattern though never an abiding one...

As followers of natural science we know nothing of any relation between thoughts and the brain, except as a gross correlation in time and space.

The brain is a mystery; it has been and still will be. How does the brain produce thoughts? That is the central question and we have still no answer to it.

Natural knowledge has not forgone emotion. It has simply taken for itself new ground of emotion, under impulsion from and in sacrifice to that one of its 'values', Truth.

The terminal path may, to distinguish it from internuncial common paths, be called the final common path. The motor nerve to a muscle is a collection of such final common paths.

That a strong stimulus to such an afferent nerve, exciting most or all of its fibres, should in regard to a given muscle develop inhibition and excitation concurrently is not surprising.

This integrative action in virtue of which the nervous system unifies from separate organs an animal possessing solidarity, an individual, is the problem before us.

That our being should consist of two fundamental elements [physical and psychical] offers I suppose no greater inherent improbability than that it should rest on one only.

Further study of central nervous action, however, finds central inhibition too extensive and ubiquitous to make it likely that it is confined solely to the taxis of antagonistic muscles.

It takes a long time to learn how to do something simple.

The old blood is indeed still strong in the Two Rivers.

We have had enough, once and for all, of Hedonism--the gloomy philosophy which says that Pleasure is the only good.

If I'd been easily discouraged, I could have been a one-hit wonder

Everywhere I go, somebody is staring at me. I don't know if people are staring because they recognize me or because they think I'm a weirdo.

I usually write from the rhythm section...If a drummer got a funky beat on some things - like a half-shuffle or a shuffle or a backbeat that's even - I can write something.

Where we have reasons for what we believe, we have no need of faith; where we have no reasons, we have lost both our connection to the world and to one another.

I lived a very don't-ask, don't-tell life.

Waiting periods are only a step. Registration is only a step. The prohibition of private firearms is the goal.

Much as we may wish to make a new beginning, some part of us resists doing so as though we were making the first step toward disaster.