A pleasant illusion is better than a harsh reality.

A pleasant illusion is better than a harsh reality.

We are all mortal until the first kiss and the second glass of wine.

We are all mortal until the first kiss and the second glass of wine.

The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time read more

The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.

Sometimes I go about in pity for myself, and all the while a great wind is bearing me across the read more

Sometimes I go about in pity for myself, and all the while a great wind is bearing me across the sky.

If a walker is indeed an individualist there is nowhere he can't go at dawn and not many places he read more

If a walker is indeed an individualist there is nowhere he can't go at dawn and not many places he can't go at noon. But just as it demeans life to live alongside a great river you can no longer swim in or drink from, to be crowded into safer areas and hours takes much of the gloss off walking -- one sport you shouldn't have to reserve a time and a court for.

Take a look at your natural river. What are you? Stop playing games with yourself. Where's your river going? Are read more

Take a look at your natural river. What are you? Stop playing games with yourself. Where's your river going? Are you riding with it? Or are you rowing against it? Don't you see that there is no effort if you're riding with your river?

A loving person lives in a loving world. A hostile person lives in a hostile world. Everyone you meet is read more

A loving person lives in a loving world. A hostile person lives in a hostile world. Everyone you meet is your mirror.

When all men think alike, no one thinks very much.

When all men think alike, no one thinks very much.

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.