Steven Weinberg Quotes

The more the universe seems comprehensible, the more it also seems pointless.

Since all life is futility, then the decision to exist must be the most irrational of all.

Maybe the universe will get tired of me.

Regarding life, the wisest men of all ages have judged alike: it is worthless.

We start off with high hopes, then we bottle it. We realise that we’re all going to die, without really finding out the big answers. We develop all those long-winded ideas which just interpret the reality of our lives in different ways, without really extending our body of worthwhile knowledge, about the big things, the real things. Basically, we live a short disappointing life; and then we die. We fill up our lives with shite, things like careers and relationships to delude ourselves that it isn’t all totally pointless.

Because there is no meaning to be found in the arbitrary nature of things., It's all random. Just as space is blue. And birds fly through it.

We are surrounded by the absurd excess of the universe. By meaningless bulk, vastness without size, power without consequence. The stubborn iteration that is present without being felt. Nothing the spirit can marry. Merely phenomenon and its physics. An endless, endless of going on. No habitat where the brain can recognize itself. No pertinence for the heart. Helpless duplication.

"Tell me, Tool, what dominates your thoughts?" The Imass shrugged before replying. "I think of futility, Adjunct." "Do all Imass think about futility?" "No. Few think at all." "Why is that?" The Imass leaned his head to one side and regarded her. "Because, Adjunct, it is futile."

The dread of futility has been my life-long plague.

Futility has become a great subject, full of opportunities.

Futility is the defining characteristic of life.

L'homme est une passion inutile. Man is a useless passion.

It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury; signifying nothing.

To me the Universe was all void of Life, of Purpose, of Volition, even of Hostility; it was one huge, dead, immeasurable Steam-engine, rolling on, in its dead indifference, to grind me limb from limb. Oh vast gloomy, solitary Golgotha, and Mill of Death! Why was the living banished thither companionless, conscious? Why, if there is no Devil; nay, unless the Devil is your God?

Ah, who will save me from existing? It's neither death nor life that I want.

The only absolute knowledge attainable by man is that life is meaningless.

Sit and spin 'til you rot on the cosmic utensil.

Perhaps someday in the distant future, dinosaurs may once again rule the Earth. If they ever learn to watch the stars, then maybe they will find our ruins in the sky.

Don't pointless things have a place, too, in this far-from-perfect world?

Nihilism is best done by professionals.

I think it's really tragic when people get serious about stuff. It's such an absurdity to take anything really seriously ... I make an honest attempt not to take anything seriously: I worked that attitude out about the time I was eighteen, I mean, what does it all mean when you get right down to it, what's the story here? Being alive is so weird.

Everything, alas, is an abyss, — actions, desires, dreams, words!

Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does.

Presumably there is indeed no purpose in the ultimate fate of the cosmos, but do any of us really tie our life's hopes to the ultimate fate of the cosmos anyway? Of course we don't; not if we are sane. Our lives are ruled by all sorts of closer, warmer, human ambitions and perceptions.

Everything in life in nonsense. it's just a question of persepctive