Every cell is a triumph of natural selection, and we’re made of trillions of cells. Within us, is a little universe.

If we offer too much silent assent about mysticism and superstition - even when it seems to be doing a little good - we abet a general climate in which scepticism is considered impolite, science tiresome, and rigorous thinking somehow stuffy and inappropriate.

What's the harm of a little mystification? It sure beats boring statistical analyses.

The well-meaning contention that all ideas have equal merit seems to me little different from the disastrous contention that no ideas have any merit.