Last Friday, April 16, 1943, I was forced to interrupt my work in the laboratory in the middle of the afternoon and proceed home, being affected by a remarkable restlessness, combined with a slight diziness. At home I lay down and sank into a not unpleasant intoxicated-like condition, characterized by an extremely stimulated imagination. In a dremlike state, with eyes closed (I found the daylight to be unpleasantly glaring), I perceived an un-interrupted stream of fantastic pictures, extraordinary shapes with intense, kaleidoscopic play of colors.

We felt the effects of herb were so dangerous that it was better to lie to the american public to save them rather than tell them the truth...

Penalties against possession of a drug should not be more damaging to an individual that the use of the drug itself.

The U.S. Constitution may not be perfect, but it's better than what we've got now.

Somebody has to do something, and it's just incredibly pathetic that it has to be us.