Reality Is The Cage Of Those Who

This Is My Prediction For The Future: Whatever Hasn't Happened Will Happen, And No One Will Be Safe From It.

You Can Analyze A Glass Of Water And You're Left With A Lot Of Chemical Components, But Nothing You Can Drink.

While I Do Not Suggest That Humanity Will Ever Be Able To Dispense With Its Martyrs, I Cannot Avoid The Suspicion That With A Little More Thought And A Little Less Belief Their Number May Be Substantially Reduced.

I Have Tried To Show Why I Believe That The Biologist Is The Most Romantic Figure On Earth At The Present Day. At First Sight He Seems To Be Just A Poor Little Scrubby Underpaid Man, Groping Blindly Amid The Mazes Of The Ultra-microscopic, Engaging In Bitter And Lifelong Quarrels Over The Nephridia Of Flatworms, Waking Perhaps One Morning To Find That Someone Whose Name He Has Never Heard Has Demolished By A Few Crucial Experiments The Work Which He Had Hoped Would Render Him Immortal.

Quantitative Work Shows Clearly That Natural Selection Is A Reality, And That, Among Other Things, It Selects Mendelian Genes, Which Are Known To Be Distributed At Random Through Wild Populations, And To Follow The Laws Of Chance In Their Distribution To Offspring. In Other Words, They Are An Agency Producing Variation Of The Kind Which Darwin Postulated As The Raw Material On Which Selection Acts.