No Self Is Of Itself Alone.

I Am Very Astonished That The Scientific Picture Of The Real World Around Me Is Deficient. It Gives A Lot Of Factual Information, Puts All Our Experience In A Magnificently Consistent Order, But It Is Ghastly Silent About All And Sundry That Is Really Near To Our Heart, That Really Matters To Us. It Cannot Tell Us A Word About Red And Blue, Bitter And Sweet, Physical Pain And Physical Delight; It Knows Nothing Of Beautiful And Ugly, Good Or Bad, God And Eternity.

Consciousness Cannot Be Accounted For In Physical Terms. For Consciousness Is Absolutely Fundamental. It Cannot Be Accounted For In Terms Of Anything Else.

If You Cannot - In The Long Run - Tell Everyone What You Have Been Doing, Your Doing Has Been Worthless.

The Great Revelation Of The Quantum Theory Was That Features Of Discreteness Were Discovered In The Book Of Nature, In A Context In Which Anything Other Than Continuity Seemed To Be Absurd According To The Views Held Until Then.

Our Mind, By Virtue Of A Certain Finite, Limited Capability, Is By No Means Capable Of Putting A Question To Nature That Permits A Continuous Series Of Answers. The Observations, The Individual Results Of Measurements, Are The Answers Of Nature To Our Discontinuous Questioning.