Tell the people not to cry. Tell them to be happy.
I would prefer to believe that a market in fetal organs would empower women to use their reproductive capabilities to their own economic advantage.
While the visible victims may draw the headlines and attract indignant protests from so-called "pro-life" organizations, the invisible victims are people like you and me who will suffer from diseases that are never cured because funds are being poured down a healthcare sieve in order to maintain permanently-unconscious bodies on complex and costly forms of life support.
I suspect that the vast majority of people, not knowing in advance whether they will either end up in a permanently vegetative state or be diagnosed with cancer, would prefer that any resources that would be spent on PVS care be reallocated to cancer research--or some similar enterprise that has the potential to help human beings who might actually recover.
A free society, to be truly worthy of that name, owes healthy, competent individuals the right to end their lives on their own terms.
I am grateful that I have rights in the proverbial public square--but, as a practical matter, my most cherished rights are those that I possess in my bedroom and hospital room and death chamber.
Maybe life involves the pairing of unsuitable people, those who wait and those who keep others waiting, and the key to happiness is finding the one person with whom you share the same internal chronometer.
People are always casting me for what they call my 'authority.
We are too civil to books. For a few golden sentences we will turn over and actually read a volume of four or five hundred pages.
Wit and puns aren't just decor in the mind; they're essential signs that the mind knows it's on, recognizes its own software, can spot the bugs in its own program.
When you try to stop activity to achieve passivity your very effort fills you with activity.