“There are many people of color who are very talented.”

If scientists don’t play God, who will?

I have been much blessed.

Knowing “why” (an idea) is more important than learning “what” (the fact).

We’re not all equal, it’s simply not true. That isn’t science.

Biology has at least 50 more interesting years.

One of the greatest gifts science has brought to the world is continuing elimination of the supernatural.

I don’t think we are here for anything. We’re just products of evolution. You can say, “Gee, your life must be pretty bleak if you don’t think there’s a purpose.” But I’m anticipating a good lunch.

The brain, is the most complex thing we have yet discovered in our universe.

Nothing new that is really interesting comes without collaboration.

Today, the theory of evolution is an accepted fact for everyone but a fundamentalist minority, whose objections are based not on reasoning but on doctrinaire adherence to religious principles.

There is no firm reason to anticipate that the intellectual capacities of peoples geographically separated in their evolution should prove to have evolved identically. Our wanting to reserve equal powers of reason as some universal heritage of humanity will not be enough to make it so.

Science moves with the spirit of an adventure characterized both by youthful arrogance and by the belief that the truth, once found, would be simple as well as pretty.

There is only one science, physics: everything else is social work.

Science that leads over the horizon depends on gathering the best minds and enabling them to do what the best minds naturally seek to do: pursue the most thrilling questions of the time.

You’ve never heard of an English lover. Only an English patient.

Already for thirty-five years he had not stopped talking and almost nothing of fundamental value had emerged.

How is it that the colors don’t seem colorful anymore? How is it that the child in me wants to live yet keeps dying more and more?

If anyone wants to abuse other people for whatever colour, race or creed they are, then it’s just stupidness, isn’t it?

I can’t have brown hair for some reason. I don’t think it goes with my skin tone. The second I see it turn brown in the sun, I dye it black – the blacker the better.

He could only give her a world in black and white. And all she wanted was a life of color.

Go on then, color me broken whilst I feign my surprise. Let me summon some sorrow for this wreckage inside.

The great inlet by which a colour for oppression has entered into the world is by one man’s pretending to determine concerning the happiness of another.

I like hair each and every way. I like to give scalp massages – to pull and tug on it. But my favorite style is long, real hair in a dusty blonde-brown color.

Colors pursue me like a constant worry. They even worry me in my sleep.