A bachelor's life resembles a widower's.
When a couple comes home from work too tired for lovemaking, they are choosing television over a child's existence.
No wonder in youth we feel immortal. How could we die when it seems we have always lived?
We were gold medalists in the sperm Olympics.
Human meaning: a poster on the white plaster wall of nature.
Parents who boast of their child's developmental progress mistake a general miracle for a particular miracle.
Death fixes us forever in the amber of our final identity.
Living fully in the present requires living partly in the past.
Philosophers find meaningful careers through denying meaning.
An everlasting heavenly banquet would weary us with bliss and make us wish our souls were in the coffin with our bodies.
Busyness is the cause, and cure, of a pointless life.
For one blessed hour before bed, we get a book or guitar and do what we want instead of what we must. One hour of the day is the raison d'être of the other twenty-three.
Happiness is the pursuit of nothing.
The young are eager to be adults, adults look forward to being retired, the retired envy youth. We possess the pieces of a happy life, too bad we cherish them out of sequence.