O conscience, upright and stainless, how bitter a sting to thee is a little fault!.

O conscience, upright and stainless, how bitter a sting to thee is a little fault!.

Some of us still get all weepy when we think about the Gaia Hypothesis, the idea that earth is a read more

Some of us still get all weepy when we think about the Gaia Hypothesis, the idea that earth is a big furry goddess-creature who resembles everybody's mom in that she knows what's best for us. But if you look at the historical record -- Krakatoa, Mt. Vesuvius, Hurricane Charley, poison ivy, and so forth down the ages -- you have to ask yourself: Whose side is she on, anyway?

If this were a logical world, men would ride side saddle.

If this were a logical world, men would ride side saddle.

If you haven't got the time to do it right, when will you find the time to do it over?

If you haven't got the time to do it right, when will you find the time to do it over?

I admire people who are suited to the contemplative life. They can sit inside themselves like honey in a jar read more

I admire people who are suited to the contemplative life. They can sit inside themselves like honey in a jar and just be. It's wonderful to have someone like that around, you always feel you can count on them. You can go away and come back, you can change your mind and your hairdo and your politics, and when you get through doing all these upsetting things, you look around and there they are, just the way they were, just being.

Keep doing good deeds long enough, and you'll probably turn out a good man in spite of yourself.

Keep doing good deeds long enough, and you'll probably turn out a good man in spite of yourself.

Imagination is the one weapon in the war against reality.

Imagination is the one weapon in the war against reality.

All time management begins with planning.

All time management begins with planning.

There is a point where in the mystery of existence contradictions meet; where movement is not all movement and stillness read more

There is a point where in the mystery of existence contradictions meet; where movement is not all movement and stillness is not all stillness; where the idea and the form, the within and the without, are united; where infinite becomes finite, yet not