“our intuitions will be our biggest liabilities, and our imaginations will be our greatest assets.”
― An Immense World: How Animal Senses Reveal the Hidden Realms Around Us
― An Immense World: How Animal Senses Reveal the Hidden Realms Around Us
“If you’re slow enough, you’re just part of the background.”
― An Immense World: How Animal Senses Reveal the Hidden Realms Around Us
― An Immense World: How Animal Senses Reveal the Hidden Realms Around Us
“Insults are the last resort of an insecure man with a crumbling argument,”
― The Boy
― The Boy
“I love science, and it pains me to think that so many are terrified of the subject or feel that choosing science means you cannot also choose compassion, or the arts, or be awed by nature. Science is not meant to cure us of mystery, but to reinvent and reinvigorate it. —Robert Sapolsky, Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers, p. xii”
― This Is Your Brain on Music: The Science of a Human Obsession
― This Is Your Brain on Music: The Science of a Human Obsession
“I am a puny part of the great whole. Yes; but all animals condemned to live, All sentient things, born by the same stern law, Suffer like me, and like me also die. The vulture fastens on his timid prey, And stabs with bloody beak the quivering limbs: All’s well, it seems, for it. But in a while An eagle tears the vulture into shreds; The eagle is transfixed by shafts of man; The man, prone in the dust of battlefields, Mingling his blood with dying fellow men, Becomes in turn the food of ravenous birds. Thus the whole world in every member groans, All born for torment and for mutual death. And o’er this ghastly chaos you would say The ills of each make up the good of all! What blessedness! And as, with quaking voice, Mortal and pitiful ye cry, “All’s well,” The universe belies you, and your heart Refutes a hundred times your mind’s conceit. . . . What is the verdict of the vastest mind? Silence: the book of fate is closed to us. Man is a stranger to his own research; He knows not whence he comes, nor whither goes. Tormented atoms in a bed of mud, Devoured by death, a mockery of fate; But thinking atoms, whose far-seeing eyes, Guided by thoughts, have measured the faint stars. Our being mingles with the infinite; Ourselves we never see, or come to know. This world, this theatre of pride and wrong, Swarms with sick fools who talk of happiness. . . . Once did I sing, in less lugubrious tone, The sunny ways of pleasure’s general rule; The times have changed, and, taught by growing age, And sharing of the frailty of mankind, Seeking a light amid the deepening gloom, I can but suffer, and will not repine.50”
― The Story of Philosophy
― The Story of Philosophy
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