“When I am dying, I should like my life taken out under general anaesthetic, exactly as if it were a diseased appendix.”

The universe we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil, no good, nothing but blind, pitiless indifference.

The solution often turns out more beautiful than the puzzle.

It is a deep aesthetic passion to rank with the finest that music and poetry can deliver.

Matter flows from place to place, and momentarily comes together to be you. Some people find that thought disturbing; I find the reality thrilling.

In the beginning was simplicity.

There is something infantile in the presumption that somebody else has a responsibility to give your life meaning and point.

There’s real poetry in the real world. Science is the poetry of reality.

Evolution is just a theory? Well, so is gravity and I don’t see you jumping out of buildings.

The feeling of awed wonder that science can give us is one of the highest experiences of which the human psyche is capable.

Religion is about turning untested belief into unshakable truth through the power of institutions and the passage of time.

Scientific beliefs are supported by evidence, and they get results. Myths and faiths are not and do not.

Today the theory of evolution is about as much open to doubt as the theory that the earth goes round the sun.

Real life seeks the gentle slopes at the back of Mount Improbable, while creationists are blind to all but the daunting precipice at the front.

Do not indoctrinate your children. Teach them how to think for themselves, how to evaluate evidence, and how to disagree with you.

Science is the poetry of reality.

Science is the poetry of reality.