If you can orbit the planet, why can't you seewhat makes the human heart happy?Is it art or is it sex?Or is it, as I suspect, just keeping goingfrom next thing to next thingto next thing to next thingto next to next to next to nextpulsating stupidly to outlast time?

If you are made for flight, intended for it,you had better find a pursuer, fast.Otherwise, all that fleeing is going nowhere.

There are varieties of life unknown to you.Their whole identity is: you can't find out.