"I read a theory once, that the human intellect was like peacock feathers. Just an extravagant display intended to attract a mate. All of art, literature, a bit of Mozart, William Shakespeare, Michelangelo, and the Empire State Building -- just an elaborate mating ritual. Maybe it doesn't matter that we have accomplished so much for the basest of reasons. But, of course, the peacock can barely fly. It lives in the dirt, pecking insects out of the muck, consoling itself with its great beauty."

“我曾經(jīng)讀到過一個理論，說人類的智慧就像是孔雀的羽毛，華麗的效果只不過是用來吸引異性。所有人類的藝術(shù)，文學(xué)，莫扎特的那點兒音樂，莎士比亞，米開朗基羅，還有帝國大廈，都只是一種精致的求偶儀式?；蛟S，比起我們這么偉大的成就，這個最底層的原因無足輕重了，但是，孔雀終究是不會飛的。它們只能活在地上，從泥巴里啄點蟲子吃，然后拿漂亮的外表來安慰自己?！?/p>