Words Are Memes That Can Be Pronounced.

If Nobody Cares, Then It Doesn't Matter What Happens To Flowers.

I Don't Myself Need That Role For God. My View Is That Creation Itself, The Universe Itself, Is The Most Wonderful Thing Deserving Awe And Respect. And That Satisfies Me As My Substitute For God.

Those Who Feel Guilty Contemplating "betraying" The Tradition They Love By Acknowledging Their Disapproval Of Elements Within It Should Reflect On The Fact That The Very Tradition To Which They Are So Loyal—the "eternal" Tradition Introduced To Them In Their Youth—is In Fact The Evolved Product Of Many Adjustments Firmly But Delicately Made By Earlier Lovers Of The Same Tradition.

There’s Simply No Polite Way To Tell People They’ve Dedicated Their Lives To An Illusion.

It's This Expandable Capacity To Represent Reasons That We Have That Gives Us A Soul. But What's It Made Of? It's Made Of Neurons. It's Made Of Lots Of Tiny Robots. And We Can Actually Explain The Structure And Operation Of That Kind Of Soul, Whereas An Eternal, Immortal, Immaterial Soul Is Just A Metaphysical Rug Under Which You Sweep Your Embarrassment For Not Having Any Explanation.