In the real world, there’s one North Star—Polaris, the brightest in the Ursa Minor constellation. But in the mind, such navigational guides are limitless. Each new pursuit—each new obsession—hangs in the dark over its horizon, another gleaming trace of iridescence, beckoning. That’s why my greatest joy comes from knowing that this journey will never be complete. Neither will I. There will always be something new to chase. To a scientist, the imagination is a sky full of North Stars.
