Here was what Kilgore Trout cried out to me in my father's voice: 'Make me young, make me young, make me young!'

There is no order in the world around us, we must adapt ourselves to the requirements of chaos instead. It is hard to adapt to chaos, but it can be done. I am …

Dear Reader: The title of this book is composed of three words from my novel Cat's Cradle. A wampeter is an object around which the lives of many otherwise unr…

Our awareness is all that is alive and maybe sacred in any of us. Everything else about us is dead machinery.

And the seasons they go round and round, And the painted ponies go up and down, We're all captive on the carousel of time We can't return we can only look behi…

They pass upon their old, tremulous feet, Creeping with little satchels down the street, And they remember, many years ago, Passing that way in silks. They wan…

And oh! I shall find how, day by day, All thoughts and things look older; How the laugh of pleasure grows less gay, And the heart of friendship colder.