Statistically the probability of any one of us being here is so small that you would think the mere fact of existence would keep us all in a contented dazzlement of surprise. We are alive against the stupendous odds of genetics, infinitely outnumbered by all the alternates who might, except for luck, be in our places.

Cells are required to stick precisely to the point. Any ambiguity, any tendency to wander from the matter at hand, will introduce grave hazards for the cells, …

Left to ourselves, mechanistic and autonomic, we hanker for friends.

I can think of a few microorganisms, possibly the tubercle bacillus, the syphilis spirochete, the malarial parasite, and a few others, that have a selective ad…

We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who cou…

Most days I wake up thinking I'm the luckiest bastard alive.

Never again to wiggle your toes. What a hell of a thing, what a wonderful, beautiful thing, to wiggle your toes.