We who officially value freedom of speech above life itself seem to have nothing to talk about but the weather.

We who officially value freedom of speech above life itself seem to have nothing to talk about but the weather.

I wish they would only take me as I am. - Dear Theo: Autobiography of Vincent Van Gogh.

I wish they would only take me as I am. - Dear Theo: Autobiography of Vincent Van Gogh.

No man has received from nature the right to give orders to others. Freedom is a gift from heaven, and read more

No man has received from nature the right to give orders to others. Freedom is a gift from heaven, and every individual of the same species has the right to enjoy it as soon as he is in enjoyment of his reason.

Show me a man who cannot bother to do little things and I'll show you a man who cannot be read more

Show me a man who cannot bother to do little things and I'll show you a man who cannot be trusted to do big things.

Absence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.

Absence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.

The progress of freedom depends more upon the maintenance of peace, the spread of commerce, and the diffusion of education, read more

The progress of freedom depends more upon the maintenance of peace, the spread of commerce, and the diffusion of education, than upon the labors of cabinets and foreign offices.

I am truly horrified by modern man. Such absence of feeling, such narrowness of outlook, such lack of passion and read more

I am truly horrified by modern man. Such absence of feeling, such narrowness of outlook, such lack of passion and information, such feebleness of thought.

Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well.

Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well.

After sleeping through a hundred million centuries we have finally opened our eyes on a sumptuous planet, sparkling with color, read more

After sleeping through a hundred million centuries we have finally opened our eyes on a sumptuous planet, sparkling with color, bountiful with life. Within decades we must close our eyes again. Isn’t it a noble, an enlightened way of spending our brief time in the sun, to work at understanding the universe and how we have come to wake up in it? This is how I answer when I am asked—as I am surprisingly often—why I bother to get up in the mornings.