Quotes About Evolution

He thinks they may also imitate the sounds of birds that are no longer around. He thinks the sounds of extinct birds are passed down the years from mockingbird to mockingbird... He says when a mockingbird sings, for all we know it's pitching fossils into the air. He says who knows what songs of ancient creatures we may be hearing out there.

I'm not my name. My name is something I wear, like a shirt. It gets worn, I outgrow it, I change it.

Life can be lived as a temporary arrangement. Life is a temporary arrangement! But the longer you go without changing, the more obscure the likelihood you ever will. After enough time passes, the idea of another way of life grows even more misty.

People expect a story to always mean the same thing, but I have found that stories change like people do.

They killed the world and called it progress.

Over the years, I've learned that the first idea you have is irrelevant. It's just a catalyst for you to get started. Then you figure out what's wrong with it and you go through phases of denial, panic, regret. And then you finally have a better idea and the second idea is always the important one.

People like the idea of innovation in the abstract, but when you present them with any specific innovation, they tend to reject it because it doesn't fit with what they already know.

Because you'll go through so many changes, I don't think it pays off to overanalyze the first business plan, for example. The first business plan is there to make sure you can use Microsoft Word.

I refuse to be left behind in this world, so I need to catch up.

The entire world has changed. So, there we go. That's all.

Casa», prosegue Chris, «era un posto terrificante una volta, ma ora non lo è più. Ed è merito tuo, Blythe. Sei stata tu a cambiare ogni cosa per me, per tutti noi. Non me lo dimentico mai, neanche per un attimo.»

Whether in a suit or in a loincloth people are ignorant little thorns cutting into one another. They seem incapable of advancing beyond the violent tendencies which at one time were necessary for survival.

Eventually he begins to practice his new signature in the margins of the paper. He tries it in various styles, his hand unaccustomed to the angles of the N, the dotting of the two i's. He wonders how many times he has written his old name, at the top of how many tests and quizzes, how many homework assignments, how many yearbook inscriptions to friends. How many times does a person write his name in a lifetime - a million? Two million?

The moments of transition, in which something changes, constitute the backbone of all of us. Whether they are a salvation or a loss, they are moments that we tend to remember.

A transformation, especially one that is deliberately sought, is often perceived as something disloyal, threatening.

We write books in a fixed moment in time, in a specific phase of our consciousness and development. That is why reading words written years ago feels alienating. You are no longer the person whose existence depended on the production of those words.

She was unprepared for the landscape to be so altered. For there to be no trace of that evening, forty autumns ago.

Voleva generare un'altra versione di se stessa, nello stesso modo in cui poteva trasformare un testo da una lingua a un'altra.

Things were different now, of course; those solitary hours he'd once savored had become a prison for him, a commonplace.

Each day, Shukumar noticed, her beauty, which had once overwhelmed him, seemed to fade. The cosmetics that had seemed superfluous were necessary now, not to improve her but to define her somehow.

As disappointed as I am, I'm not surprised that my beloved stationery store no longer exists, the rents must be sky-high around here, and furthermore, who buys notebooks in the end? My students can barely write by hand, they press buttons to learn about life and explore the world. Their thoughts emerge on screens and dwell inside clouds that have no substance, no shortage of space.

It all happens in a matter of seconds: the sphere, so precise at the start, emerges, perfectly round, like an egg yolk that then slips from its shell.

During half a century of literary work, I have endeavoured to introduce the philosophy of evolution into the sphere of literature, and to inspire my readers to think in evolutionary terms.

A finished work is exactly that, requires resurrection.