There Is Nothing Very 'normal' About Nature.

The Future Is Neither Ahead Nor Behind, On One Side Or Another. Nor Is It Dark Or Light. It Is Contained Within Ourselves; Its Evil And Good Are Perpetually Within Us.

What If I Am, In Some Way, Only A Sophisticated Fire That Has Acquired An Ability To Regulate Its Rate Of Combustion And To Hoard Its Fuel In Order To See And Walk?

If It Should Turn Out That We Have Mishandled Our Own Lives As Several Civilizations Before Us Have Done, It Seems A Pity That We Should Involve The Violet And The Tree Frog In Our Departure.

Animals Are Molded By Natural Forces They Do Not Comprehend. To Their Minds There Is No Past And No Future. There Is Only The Everlasting Present Of A Single Generation, Its Trails In The Forest, Its Hidden Pathways In The The Air And In The Sea. There Is Nothing In The Universe More Alone Than Man. He Has Entered Into The Strange World Of History.

As We Passed Under A Streetlamp I Noticed, Beside My Own Bobbing Shadow, Another Great, Leaping Grotesquerie That Had An Uncanny Suggestion Of The Frog World About It . . . Judging From The Shadow, It Was Soaring Higher And More Gaily Than Myself. 'very Well,' You Will Say, 'why Didn’t You Turn Around. That Would Be The Scientific Thing To Do.' But Let Me Tell You It Is Not Done ― Not On An Empty Road At Midnight.