The future has already arrived. It's just not even...

Dreaming in public is an important part of our job description, as science writers, but there are bad dreams as well as good dreams. We're dreamers, you see, but we're also realists, of a sort.

Cyberspace. A consensual hallucination experienced daily by billions of legitimate operators, in every nation, by children being taught mathematical concepts.

It's impossible to move, to live, to operate at any level without leaving traces, bits, seemingly meaningless fragments of personal information.

We live in an age when to be young and to be indifferent can be no longer synonymous. We must prepare for the coming hour. The claims of the Future are represented by suffering millions and the Youth of a Nation are the trustees of Posterity.

This is the first age that's ever paid much attention to the future, which is a little ironic since we may not have one.

High expectations weren't nurtured in my neck of nowhere back then - children weren't fawned over from an early age as 'gifted' and groomed for a prizewinning future self-esteem was considered something you had to pick from the garden yourself.

A great source of calamity lies in regret and anticipation therefore a person is wise who thinks of the present alone, regardless of the past or future.

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.

Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen.

The older I grow the more I distrust the familiar doctrine that age brings wisdom.

Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself.