Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Steven Pinker

Quote by Steven Pinker

Work

The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined

This book delves into the patterns and causes behind the reduction of violence in society, exploring various historical periods and cultural contexts. more

Author

Steven Pinker
Steven Pinker

Steven Pinker is a renowned cognitive psychologist, linguist, and author. His research focuses on language, cognition, and human behavior, particularly the relationship between language and thought. Pinker is known for his in-depth research on the evolution of language and his contributions to the field of cognitive science. more

You May Also Like

“Oh, I know there are those of you who shake your head and clutch your Rosary Beads whenever I let slip yet another F-bomb -- all you prissy, judgemental little pussy farts who've led absolutely perfect lives ... never lied, cheated, coveted a close friend's new piece of ass, or wished ill upon another. Yeah! Im talkin' to YOU!!! You mealy-mouthed phoneys who are mortally offended by words ... WORDS!!! I once heard it said that to the physcian, nothing about the human body is dirty. I'm a writer. For me, there are no dirty words! To be sure, there are some truly ugly, venomous words. Words that still carry their baggage of hate and ignorance. Words that only serve to wound. But those are few in number and remain the exclusive property of the poisoned minds that birthed them. Those aren't the words I speak of. The great defense attorney, Clarence Darrow (one of my idols), was once reprimanded by a judge for using "salty" language. Darrow's response (and forgive my paraphrase) was to inform the judge that given that language is such a woefully inadequate instrument, he felt he should be allowed to use ALL the words. So, in the spirit of that immortal utterance, I'd just like to say, FUCK YOU!”

“If everyone perceives a different reality based on their unique physical and psychological attributes, their histories, needs, and desires, then whose reality is accurate? The point is, our so-called reality, the world we think we live in, is actually a contrivance. It’s a projection of what we perceive, think, feel, and believe at any given moment. That may sound depressing, but it can be quite the opposite. It can be empowering. Why? Because, if our reality is contrived, it can be adjusted . . . and elevated.”

“The old man continued, “You have been a real blessing to me. Today, I understand something I didn’t see before: every blessing ignored becomes a curse. I don’t want anything else in life. But you are forcing me to look at wealth and at horizons I have never known. Now that I have seen them, and now that I see how immense my possibilities are, I’m going to feel worse than I did before you arrived. Because I know the things I should be able to accomplish, and I don’t want to do so.... And, as he smothered the coals in the hookah, he told the boy that he could begin to sell tea in the crystal glasses. Sometimes, there's just no way to hold back the river.”

“For the first time, he allowed himself to think of the day when they might part, of what would come of her. He could not imagine a day without hearing the soft, sultry sound of her voice, of smelling roses and finding himself completely distracted by her scent, by the gentle sway of her hips, the soft brush of her hair against his skin. Her smiles alone were worth a king's ransom. He would send her into a world where a hundred men would be eager to snatch up what he had tossed away so carelessly. They would not care if she ever smiled. Aye, he knew what would become of her. But what would become of him?”

“He watched her watch him, a little surprised that she didn't seem distracted by the noisy procession. She held her hands clasped at her waist, her expression so serene that he felt his own tension begin to slip away. As they drew closer to the chapel, her features became clearer. He was still too far away to tell the color of her eyes, yet they looked hauntingly familiar. Where had he seen those eyes before? They were her only remarkable feature. Her hair was a plain, dark chestnut color, the slope of her nose not as dainty as he preferred, and her cheekbones too high and sharp to flatter the roundness of her chin. He stared openly, trying to summon a word to describe her. Few would call her pleasing or even pretty. Those terms were too earthy to describe a face such as hers. He stared harder. Exquisite. That word came very close. "Breathtaking" was a more apt description. He wondered that all in the bailey didn't gape at her, dumbfounded by such perfection. Not that he would know if others stared or not. He couldn't take his eyes from her. No matter how common or mismatched her features, they somehow combined to create the face of an angel.”

“Claudia was either unaware of her expression, or didn't care that he knew of her interest in his nakedness. Once he had hoped to find a mistress who would look at him with such undisguised longing. He had never dared hope to find lust in a wife. The perfect woman sat before him, and she was his. Life was very good indeed. He propped his hands behind his head. "I am at your mercy, my lady. Do with me as you will." "You wish to be ravished, Baron?" "‘Tis my fondest desire.”