You know, it's funny... the other day I just plugged in a backup hard drive that I haven't used in about 4 years. I looked at all the stuff was working on again, none of which I have thought about since and most of which I hadn't even remembered, and realized, "Wow, that was a really long time ago."

So I think the frequently-noted sensation of time seeming to pass more quickly as you get older has more to do with how often we think of something. The more often you think of something, the more recent it seems; but be reminded of something actually relatively recent but which you haven't thought back on even once since it happened, and the full weight comes to bear of just how long it's been, just how much time has passed since things that were even far more recent than long-ago things that…

It seems to me that a frequent problem with most people's talk about "common sense" is not that it isn't really so common. It's that it isn't really sense.

Truth is unknowable, because we can only know with our minds. I mean, no, of course truth is knowable.

I'm sure, to an ant, truth is apparent: follow formic acid trails, dig in soil.

To us, probably the same—the truth of whatever is our own equivalent of formic acid and digging. Broader by comparison, of course, but equivalent in terms of being constrained by limits we know nothing about, out there on the impenetrable edge of our own capacities.

I wonder what an ant makes of the beach, the shore, the ocean. The sky.

An ant works in the daytime, but I don't think it questions where the light comes from.

What don't we do?