The discovery of superfluidity opened up a new understanding in the science world.

Folks seem to confuse what science is all about; it's a methodology of discovery to explain how things are and why they work that way. Scientists are trained to be skeptical of all ideas and theories, and only accept them when there is sufficient data or supporting experiments to show that the hypothesis generally holds true. Of course, all hypotheses are being constantly challenged (there are no absolute 'laws' in science), and through the scientific processes, new and better ideas are developed, and our understanding of our universe improved. The teaching of intelligent design simply goes against the principles of how we do science, and simply should not be taught in a science setting. ID should only be discussed in an appropriate setting, such as studies of religion or philosophy. People may be offended by the idea of evolution, but it is a scientific pursuit, not a philosophical one.

There are few moments in science in which you genuinely are excited. The discovery of superfluidity in helium-3 was one of those moments.

In the world of the very small, where particle and wave aspects of reality are equally significant, things do not behave in any way that we can understand from our experience of the everyday world...all pictures are false, and there is no physical analogy we can make to understand what goes on inside atoms. Atoms behave like atoms, nothing else.

The field of planetary science is currently enjoying an intense period of readjustment and discovery.

I remember when we found the first population of living Cerion agassizi in central Eleuthera. Our hypothesis of Cerion's general pattern required that two predictions be affirmed (or else we were in trouble): this population must disappear by hybridization with mottled shells toward bank-interior coasts and with ribby snails toward the bank-edge. We hiked west toward the bank-interior and easily found hybrids right on the verge of the airport road. We then moved east toward the bank-edge along a disused road with vegetation rising to five feet in the center between the tire paths. We should have found our hybrids but we did not. The Cerion agassizi simply stopped about two hundred yards north of our first ribby Cerion. Then we realized that a pond lay just to our east and that ribby forms, with their coastal preferences, might not favor the western side of the pond. We forded the pond and found a classic hybrid zone between Cerion agassizi and ribby Cerions. (Ribby Cerion had just managed to round the south end of the pond, but had not moved sufficiently north along the west side to establish contact with C. agassizi populations.) I wanted to shout for joy. Then I thought, "But who can I tell; who cares?" And I answered myself, "I don't have to tell anyone. We have just seen and understood something that no one has ever seen and understood before. What more does a man need?