Probably the closest things to perfection are the huge absolutely empty holes that astronomers have recently discovered in space. If there's nothing there, how can anything go wrong?

It's strange how the simple things in life go on while we become more difficult.

The sun was like a huge 50-cent piece that someone had poured kerosene on and then had lit with a match, and said, "Here, hold this while I go get a newspaper," and put the coin in my hand, but never came back.

The Roundhouse was a complete shell. It was absolutely empty, lying derelict for years.

Nothing exists except atoms and empty space; everything else is opinion.

You don't have to patch holes. You have to empty the refrigerator.