Choice Is A Signature Of Our Species.

History Is An Agreed-upon Fiction.

...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.

As A Species, We've Somehow Survived Large And Small Ice Ages, Genetic Bottlenecks, Plagues, World Wars And All Manner Of Natural Disasters, But I Sometimes Wonder If We'll Survive Our Own Ingenuity.

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 ?

There Is A Way Of Beholding Nature Which Is A Form Of Prayer, A Way Of Minding Something With Such Clarity And Aliveness That The Rest Of The World Recedes. It . . . Gives The Brain A Small Vacation.