Although Lewis Carroll Thought Of The Hunting

The Last Level Of Metaphor In The Alice Books Is This: That Life, Viewed Rationally And Without Illusion, Appears To Be A Nonsense Tale Told By An Idiot Mathematician. At The Heart Of Things Science Finds Only A Mad, Never-ending Quadrille Of Mock Turtle Waves And Gryphon Particles. For A Moment The Waves And Particles Dance In Grotesque, Inconceivably Complex Patterns Capable Of Reflecting On Their Own Absurdity.

The Computers Are Not Replacing Mathematicians; They Are Breeding Them.

[t]he More The Public Is Confused, The Easier It Falls Prey To Doctrines Of Pseudo-science Which May At Some Future Date Recieve The Backing Of Politically Powerful Groups [...]a Renaissance Of German Quasi-science Paralleled The Rise Of Hitler.

A God Whose Creation Is So Imperfect That He Must Be Continually Adjusting It To Make It Work Properly Seems To Me A God Of Relatively Low Order, Hardly Worthy Of Any Worship.

If God Creates A World Of Particles And Waves, Dancing In Obedience To Mathematical And Physical Laws, Who Are We To Say That He Cannot Make Use Of Those Laws To Cover The Surface Of A Small Planet With Living Creatures?