My best friend, Wil Wheaton, identifies himself as a geek.

We're not in an information age anymore. We're in the information management age.

Nerds get caught up in minutiae, because there is a tremendous and fulfilling sense of control in understanding every single detail of a thing more than any other living creature.

Bowling is all physics and energy distribution. It's F = ma. So it is actually one of the most science-y sports, because it literally is just a ball and a surface and objects to knock down.

When you hang around a lot of comedians long enough, you realize there's a certain gene, in every comedian. It's why we get hyper-analytical about things.

I do seem like the kind of guy who'd be obsessive about Rubik's Cubes.

No matter what tricks you use or what decisions you make, go easy on yourself as someone who's on a never-ending quest for improvement.

Steal moments of happiness if you have to, and then collect them until they are the dominant images in your psyche.

I almost think of nerd brains as rattlesnake venom; like, you can milk it. You can milk the pulpy venom out of the nerd brain and use it for good if you want to.

Humans cannot produce viable offspring with our closest animal cousin: the chimpanzee. We cannot impregnate a chimp. So you know what that means? No condoms.

I've gone from being bullied by jocks as a kid to being bullied by nerds as an adult.

Love simply is.

Justice is the cardinal virtue of peace.

Jesus had no regard for the lifeboat politics you and I live within every day.

Not many people do at the age of 21 or younger even, know how to act nor could be concerned with anything other than fighting, women and money.

The only thing that is guaranteed in life is that we're all gong to die at some point, so it's important to make the most of now.

If the truth doesn't save us, what does that say about us?

If you were plowing a field, which would you rather use? Two strong oxen or 1024 chickens?

The cream-tiled walls were spattered here and there with old dried bloodstains, deep gouges that might have been clawmarks, and all kinds of graffiti. As usual, someone had spelt Cthulhu wrongly.

When you had a terrorist, you could only search a relatively narrow slice of numbers, primarily land lines.

Not a superman who stumbles, but an ape with makeshift manners in whose nickel-plated jungles roam mechanical bananas.