The universe is like a safe to which there is a combination-but the combination is locked up in the safe.

The universe begins to look more like a great thought than a great machine.

The universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.

The cosmos is a gigantic fly-wheel making 10,000 revolutions a minute. Man is a sick fly taking a dizzy ride on it. Religion is the theory that the wheel was designed and set spinning to give him the ride.

The universe may have a purpose, but nothing we know suggests that, if so, this purpose has any similarity to ours.

In answer to the question of why it happened, I offer the modest proposal that our Universe is simply one of those things which happen from time to time.

The usual approach of science of constructing a mathematical model cannot answer the questions of why there should be a universe for the model to describe. Why does the universe go to all the bother of existing?

The universe is not hostile, nor yet is it friendly. It is simply indifferent.

The more comprehensible the universe becomes the more pointless it seems.

I don't pretend to understand the universe-it's a great deal bigger than I am ... People ought to be modester.