I find myself becoming increasingly nostalgic for the past, but after all I suppose that is the only thing one can be nostalgic about.

Facts, like living things, have a value in and of themselves and demand respect. Yet some people use them as means to an end, and dismiss them as soon as they are done using them.

True ideas seem to suffer from repetition, while stupid ones tend to flourish.

A thousand truths can be assembled in such a way as to create a colossal lie.

As time and space are bent by gravity, so too is truth bent by power.

You may never live long enough to discover who you are, but by the time you reach middle age you will hopefully realize who you are not.

Technology has not made humanity any wiser, it has only made us more dangerous.

Sometimes you come to realize you understand something but you can’t explain it to anyone, not even yourself. This is perhaps the most sacred kind of understanding.

There is no greater thing than to be oneself, and it is never too late to do so.

Where there is hope there is life.

Death is the night sky, the background against which the fleeting fireworks of life are displayed, an empty stage upon which the drama of life is played.

Time is, in fact, a cross to bear, it passes on inexorably and remorselessly, destroying everything in its wake, save art and works of the intellect.

Appreciation is the highest form of prayer, for it acknowledges the presence of good wherever you shine the light of your thankful thoughts.

My obsessions tend to cluster, so I often have families of poems in which only a couple of them make it to the book. It can be satisfying to banish poems to my "crappy poems" file.

Personally, I think tying garbage bags around your head and hands is overkill.

They're not parallel at all. They're my concerns, but how they're expressed particularly on the page is completely divorced from who I am in my street life.

When writing gateway software of any kind, take pains to disturb the data stream as little as possible - and never throw away information unless the recipient forces you to!

What about the rest of your life?" She shrugged. "What about it?" "Aren't you worried about, like, forever?" "Forever is composed of nows," she says.

I'm a full disclosure kind of person.

I also don't exercise. I can't imagine exercising for two hours. Not my style.

What is it you want to change? Your hair, your face, your body? Why? For God is in love with all those things and he might weep when they are gone.