If you don't like my opinions leave. But just remember, the animals can’t leave the cages that hold them. They are captive and suffering. As you cozy into your bed tonight, try to imagine the pain and the suffering that they endure day after day and night after night. Next time you get some soap in your eyes, try to imagine that pain for 3 or 4 days at a time. Next time you have a stomach ache, try to imagine liquid plumber being poured down your throat till you puke so much blood that you bleed to death. Next time you bump your head, try to imagine being a monkey and getting a steel plate smashed into your skull at 50 miles per hour. Then, only then should you feel compelled to tell me that I’m wrong about my opinions. For all these things have happened in the name of science. They continue in abundance till this day.
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There are two kinds of truth: the truth that lights the way and the truth that warms the heart. The first of these is science, and the second is art. Neither is independent of the other or more important than the other. Without art, science would be as useless as a pair of high forceps in the hands of a plumber. Without science, art would become a crude mess of folklore and emotional quakery. The truth of art keeps science from becoming inhuman and the truth of science keeps art from becoming ridiculous.
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If I would be a young man again and had to decide how to make my living, I would not try to become a scientist or teacher. I would rather choose to be a plumber or a peddler in the hope to find that modest degree of independence still available under present circumstances.
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The truth is that most busy people cannot sustain a seven-day-a-week training schedule. There are too many other stresses and responsibilities in their lives.
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There are two kinds of truth; the truth that lights the way and the truth that warms the heart. The first of these is science, and the second is art. Without art science would be as useless as a pair of high forceps in the hands of a plumber. Without science art would become a crude mess of folklore and emotional quackery.
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Would people applaud me if I was a good plumber? by
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A plumber never bites his nails.
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Not only is there no God, but try getting a plumber on weekends.
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Not only is there no God, but try finding a plumber on Sunday
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