I'm quite a softy, yes. I have a blank spot with respect to visual art, but I have perhaps a compensating hypersensitivity to poetry and music.

Much as we might wish to believe otherwise, universal love and the welfare of the species as a whole are concepts which simply do not make evolutionary sense.

Do not indoctrinate your children. Teach them how to think for themselves, how to evaluate evidence, and how to disagree with you.

Faith is belief without evidence and reason; coincidentally that's also the definition of delusion.

Evolution is just a theory? Well, so is gravity and I don't see you jumping out of buildings.

Such delusions of grandeur to think that a God with a hundred billion galaxies on his mind would give a tuppenny damn who you sleep with, or indeed whether you believe in him.

The less you think, the more you believe.

How thoughtful of God to arrange matters so that, wherever you happen to be born, the local religion always turns out to be the true one.

The universe we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil, no good, nothing but blind, pitiless indifference.

Science is the poetry of reality.

The theory of evolution by cumulative natural selection is the only theory we know of that is in principle capable of explaining the existence of organized complexity.

A person who is in a constant rat race seldom has time to think whether or not he is living his life properly

Let your projects be independent organisms. They will develop their own beautiful architecture.

Small kindnesses, small courtesies, small considerations, habitually practised in our social intercourse, give a greater charm to the character than the display of great talents and accomplishments.

Life can be at its cruelest with love and dreams. But of course they keep most of us going.

The only violence was when these so-called 'freedom fighters' terrorized the poor Africans in the villages... They were told what to do and who to support.

The commercial storm leaves its path strewn with ruin. When it is over there is calm, but a dull, heavy calm.

I love the rowdiness, I love how crazy it is during the day. There's a business about it that's great. There's never a dull moment, so it really inspires the music I write.

If a slave is unwilling to go with his new master, he is whipped, or locked up in jail, until he consents to go, and promises not to run away during the year.

God is always the upholder of justice.

I needed a song and I need a place to kind of get it out. John Paul [White] was there for me as a friend, and I really appreciated that because I just needed a place to go.