The Universe is very, very big.It also loves a paradox. For example, it has some extremely strict rules.Rule number one: Nothing lasts forever.Not you or your family or your house or your planet or the sun. It is an absolute rule. Therefore when someone says that their love will never die, it means that their love is not real, for everything that is real dies. Rule number two: Everything lasts forever.

The universe is illusion merely, not one speck of it real, and we are not only its victims, falling always into or smashed by a planet slung by the sun-but also its captives, bound by the mineral-made ropes of our senses.

In everything that moves through the universe, I see my own body and in everything that governs the universe, my own soul.

... something is afoot in the universe, something that looks like gestation and birth.

The universe is a thought of God.

Only God understands the universe.

If the universe is so bad, or even half so bad, how on earth did human beings ever come to attribute it to the activity of a wise and good Creator?

The universe does not make sense without God.

Whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

The Universe is but one vast symbol of God.

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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