On the other hand, the seventies were drab. That is, I am utterly fascinated by the fifties and sixties.

I grew up with tarot cards and the reading of tea leaves.

My favourite tea is lapsang souchong.

I'm more a dog person than a cat person.

I grew up in North Devon, by the sea, and feel a special affinity for the landscape there, despite a lack of actual ancestry.

I was born in the seventies, age of bad haircuts and grainy colour photos.

I've never been baptised.

[My muse] is, in fact, a woman of the world, and precisely because of this, hopes that a diversity of cultures will endure, and that one bland monoculture does not swamp everything.

If we do want to do that [ colonise space to survive, ], then vacuous materialism is not going to be enough for us.

If we do overcome linear time, I would hope this means dwelling more directly in the fertility of the imagination rather than denying it, as some aspects of Buddhism seem to.

Some Buddhists, however, never seem to get past the void, and I suppose I view this as a kind of Buddhist 'Old Testament' that I don't especially like.

Is there any vanity greater than the vanity of those who believe themselves without it?

If a man keeps cherishing his old knowledge so as continually to be acquiring new, he may be a teacher of others.

Brothers keep asking Ice Cube, 'Yo, when will you bust?' They surround me and make a big fuss

The sun, centre and sire of light, The keystone of the world-built arch of heaven.

President Johnson and I have a lot in common. We were both born in small towns and we're both fortunate in the fact that we think we married above ourselves.

Thinking through how you find that intersection between individual, compelling human narratives and structural, systemic injustices - that's the place that's most interesting to me as a reporter.

Writing distills, crystallizes, and clarifies thought.

Yesterday, my eyeglass prescription ran out.

...the taste of the finely-worded truth rolled upon the tongue as its thought is revolved in the mind.

Oh! that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves.