We need to stop, and admit it: we have a prediction problem. We love to predict things—and we aren’t very good at it.

There's always the risk that there are unknown unknowns.

Almost everyone's instinct is to be overconfident and read way too much into a hot or cold streak.

We're not that much smarter than we used to be, even though we have much more information - and that means the real skill now is learning how to pick out the useful information from all this noise.

New ideas are sometimes found in the most granular details of a problem where few others bother to look.

We must become more comfortable with probability and uncertainty.

Success makes you less intimidated by things.

The quest for certainty in forecasting outcomes can be the enemy of progress.

When human judgment and big data intersect there are some funny things that happen

Data scientist is just a sexed up word for statistician.

On average, people should be more skeptical when they see numbers. They should be more willing to play around with the data themselves.

in earth their have only one reason of war, i have power and want to show,

It's not that [writers] are pompous jerks. We are insecure. We feel like we're fading away in this vast sea of scriveners.

Mars is the symbolic and totally stimulating next objective that could so dominate the next century's exploration efforts. From Mars, the resources of all the asteroids will become readily available.

We are an integral part of beauty, not something separate.

I feel that I am doing the minimum amount of damage to other possibilities that may take place in a reader's head.

Joy is prayer; joy is strength, joy is love. God loves a cheerful giver. The best way we can show our gratitude to God and the people is to accept everything with joy.

One of the main weaknesses of mankind is the average man's familiarity with the word 'impossible.

I know for sure that what we dwell on is who we become.

The nature of life is to be a study of contrasts: joy/sadness, full/empty. The Main Thing is to Keep The Main Thing The Main Thing.

Bring me an axe and spade, Bring me a winding-sheet; When I my grave have made Let winds and tempests beat: Then down I'll lie as cold as clay. True love doth pass away!