To My Surprise, My Marijuana Use Has

The God Excuse, The Last Refuge Of A Man With No Answers And No Argument.

We Think In Language. We Think In Words. Language Is The Landscape Of Thought.

I'm 63 Now. But That's Just 17 Celsius.

Not Only Do I Not Know What's Going On, I Wouldn't Know What To Do About It If I Did.

I Don`t Understand A Belief That There Is An Invisible Being In The Sky Who Watches Over Us All The Time And Keeps Score And Who Throws You In A Burning Pit. I Think That's Very Limiting, Very Antihuman. It's The Way They Devised For Helping To Control People Because If They Can Make You Believe In An Invisible Man Who's Going To Hurt You Later, They Can Make You Believe Anything!