Never to lie is to have no lock to your door, you are never wholly alone.
The flow. Yeah. Knowing you could step on the court and make it happen. You practiced, sure. But then, when you walked out there, you could just go. You could flow, that was it: you created and you didn't totally know how. You just knew you could, so you did. It wasn't thinking and it wasn't imitating somebody else's moves, though you always looked carefully when you watched good players play. But when you played... it was something you couldn't explain. Neal used to know. It didn't come from thinking about it.
Individuals are not stable things, they are fleeting. Chromosomes too are shuffled into oblivion, like hands of cards soon after they are dealt. But the cards themselves survive the shuffling. The cards are the genes. The genes are not destroyed by crossing-over, they merely change partners and march on. Of course they march on. That is their business. They are the replicators and we are their survival machines. When we have served our purpose we are cast aside. But genes are denizens of geological time: genes are forever.
Every rose is an autograph from the hand of the Almighty God. On this world about us He has inscribed His thought, in these marvelous hieroglyphics which sense and science have been these many thousand years seeking to understand. The universe itself is a great autograph of the Almighty.
If death is like a sonnet then life would be a haiku. The sonnet, a lyrical poem, the beauty and magic with the last breath~ love, words fading and floating off into the abyss that is space whilst our everyday lives or days more important than normal become just a mere whisper in only a few short syllables through which we convey with our hearts the truth of the universe in a single moment briefly.
Une religion, par exemple, qui doit Ãªtre transformÃ©e en savoir historique, une religion qui doit Ãªtre Ã©tudiÃ©e de part en part scientifiquement, une fois cette Ã©tape franchie, sera par l? mÃªme dÃ©truite. Toute vÃ©rificatiuon historique amÃ¨ne au jour tant de choses fausses, grossiÃ¨res, inhumaines, absurdes, violentes que, forcÃ©ment, se dissipe l'atmosphÃ¨re d'illusion pieuse oÃ¹ tout ce qui a le dÃ©sir de vivre peut seul prospÃ©rer.DeuxiÃ¨me ConsidÃ©ration intempestive, ch. 7