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Not much is known about alligators. They don't train well. And they're unwieldy and rowdy to work with in laboratories.

Diane Ackerman

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Diane Ackerman
Age: 76
Born: 1948
Born: October 7
Author
Naturalist
Non-Fiction Writer
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Waukegan
Illinois
Alligators
Laboratory
Train
Known
Wells
Well
Unwieldy
Work
Rowdy
Much
Laboratories

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habit, a particularly insidious thug who chokes passion and smothers love. Habit puts us on autopilot.
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People search for love as if it were a city lost beneath the desert dunes, where pleasure is the law, the streets are lined with brocade cushions, and the sun never sets.
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In Manhattan last month I heard a woman borrowing the jargon of junkies to say to another, 'Want to do some chocolate?'
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No matter how politely one says it, we owe our existence to the farts of blue-green algae.
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Artificial intelligence is growing up fast, as are robots whose facial expressions can elicit empathy and make your mirror neurons quiver.
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Tranquillity hides in small spaces, and when found needs to be treasured, because you know it's a phantom that will slip away again.
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Look in the mirror. The face that pins you with its double gaze reveals a chastening secret.
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...for most people in the [Jewish] Ghetto [of Warsaw] nature lived only in memory -- no parks, birds, or greenery existed in the Ghetto -- and they suffered the loss of nature like a phantom-limb pain, an amputation that scrambled the body's rhythms, starved the senses, and made basic ideas about the world impossible for children to fathom.
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Human beings are sloshing sacks of chemicals on the move.
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Symbolic of life, hair bolts from our head[s]. Like the earth, it can be harvested, but it will rise again. We can change its color and texture when the mood strikes us, but in time it will return to its original form, just as Nature will in time turn our precisely laid-out cities into a weed-way.
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If a mind is just a few pounds of blood, urea, and electricity, how does it manage to contemplate itself, worry about its soul, do time-and-motion studies, admire the shy hooves of a goat, know that it will die, enjoy all the grand and lesser mayhems of the heart ?
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After all, coffee is bitter, a flavor from the forbidden and dangerous realm.
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It's essential to tailor rehab to what impassions someone. The brain gradually learns by riveting its attention-through endless repetitions.
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On some summer days in New York City, the air hangs thickly visible, like the combined exhalations of eight million souls. Steam rising from vents underground makes you wonder if there isn't one giant sweat gland lodged beneath the city.
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Adventure is not something you travel to find. It's something you take with you, or you're not going to find it when you arrive.
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And yet, words are the passkeys to our souls. Without them, we can't really share the enormity of our lives.
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It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in between.
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A kiss is like singing into someone's mouth.
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Life is a thing that mutates without warning, not always in enviable ways. All part of the improbable adventure of being alive, of being a brainy biped with giant dreams on a crazy blue planet.
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The daftest logic brings such sweet unrest.
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