If You Want Sweet Dreams, You've Got

There's A Graveyard In Northern France Where All The Dead Boys From D-day Are Buried. The White Crosses Reach From One Horizon To The Other. I Remember Looking It Over And Thinking It Was A Forest Of Graves. But The Rows Were Like This, Dizzying, Diagonal, Perfectly Straight, So After All It Wasn't A Forest But An Orchard Of Graves. Nothing To Do With Nature, Unless You Count Human Nature.

Prayer Had Always Struck Me As More Or Less A Glorified Attempt At A Business Transaction.

The Longer You Live, The More Likely You Are To Have Something To Say.

As A Biologist, I Can't Think Of Myself As Anything But An Animal Among Animals And Plant.

For If There Is Any Single Thing That Everyone Hopes For Most Dearly, It Must Be This: That The Youngest Outlive The Oldest.