To begin to understand the gorgeous fever that is consciousness, we must try to understand the senses and what they can tell us about the ravishing world we have the privilege to inhabit.

Look in the mirror. The face that pins you with its double gaze reveals a chastening secret.

Nothing is more memorable than a smell. One scent can be unexpected, momentary and fleeting, yet conjure up a childhood summer beside a lake in the mountains...

I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.

It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in between.

I swear I will not dishonor my soul with hatred, but offer myself humbly as a guardian of nature, as a healer of misery, as a messenger of wonder, as an architect of peace.

Wonder is the heaviest element on the periodic table. Even a tiny fleck of it stops time.

No matter how politely one says it, we owe our existence to the farts of blue-green algae.

Words are such small things, like confetti in the brain, and yet they are color and clarify everything, they can stain the mind or warp the feelings.

The heart is a museum, filled with the exhibits of a lifetime's loves.

We live on the leash of our senses. There is no way in which to understand the world without first detecting it through the radar-net of our senses.

in the endit is wordspoetry. sunsetssomeone’s deep blue silk voice.mountain scents.someone’s smile.eyes. that we haveno defenses against.

But the dull and stupid masses will continue in their sluggish bustle.

When alone, concentrate on the fruits of the solitude, not on the poisons of it!

Surgery was the most difficult thing I could imagine.And so I became a surgeon.

I can never say a line someone else has given me, which is why script meetings on TV shows always go terribly for me.

An overly pragmatic attitude is not productive on the long run.

In science, reason is the guide; in poetry, taste. The object of the one is truth, which is uniform and indivisible; the object of the other is beauty, which is multiform and varied.

I have gone from “being” my experience to being infinite consciousness having the experience and observing the experience.

For all their bitching about what’s holding them back, most people have a lot of trouble coming up with the defined dreams they’re being held from.

The Big Chill is one of those things that everybody can identify with. Between eight characters, they can pick somebody who's somewhat like them