The good poet sticks to his real loves, those within the realm of possibility. He never tries to hold hands with God or the human race.
The stunning thing about the world as it is, is that we have a tremendously large problem in it: namely, one-third of all human deaths, 80-million every year from poverty-related causes, trivial diseases and so on, and stunningly, nobody is really paying attention to it.
The number of known human fossils only increases slowly. But the manner of regarding and assessing them is capable of progressing rapidly, as indeed it does. In the absence of any absolutely sensational discovery in prehistory, there is an up-to-date and scientific manner of understanding man, which is solidly based on palaeontology.
At the end of the day, life’s about realising one’s human potential. I don’t know if I’ve realised mine, but I’ve certainly gone a long way towards realising some goals and some dreams.
Human nature refers to what is in people but which they cannot study or work at achieving.
I just think we’re on this rock orbiting a sun that’s going to go out, and I don’t know that human society is necessarily a wonderful thing for the planet. I think people can be kind to one another and share things, but I don’t know that this particular iteration of civilization is to be preferred to any other.
The chief incalculable in war is the human will.
Mysticism, in the narrow sense, implies a specific experience which is foreign to most poets and most men, but on the other hand, it represents an instinct which is a human sine qua non.
The freedom of thought is a sacred right of every individual man, and diversity will continue to increase with the progress, refinement, and differentiation of the human intellect.
Who included me among the ranks of the human race?