The human race is a very, very magical race. We have a magic power of witches and wizards. We’re here on this earth to unravel the mystery of this planet. The planet is asking for it.

Sin, in short, is that vast moral disease which affects the whole human race, of every rank and class and name and nation and people and tongue, a disease from which there never was but one born of woman that was free. Need I say that One was Christ Jesus the Lord?

We are making music for the human race, and even beings from other galaxies are welcome to vibe with us.

Words have the power to heal or wound.

My guess is that well over 80 percent of the human race goes through life without having a single original thought.

Progress: The process whereby the human race has got rid of whiskers, the vermiform appendix and God.

Any man who afflicts the human race with ideas must be prepared to see them misunderstood.

Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race.