An Old Philosopher Said To Monsieur Coignard,

Distrust Even Mathematics; Albeit So Sublime And Highly Perfected, We Have Here A Machine Of Such Delicacy It Can Only Work In Vacuo, And One Grain Of Sand In The Wheels Is Enough To Put Everything Out Of Gear. One Shudders To Think To What Disaster Such A Grain Of Sand May Bring A Mathematical Brain. Remember Pascal.

Custom Alone Regulates Morals.

All Changes, Even The Most Longed For, Have Their Melancholy; For What We Leave Behind Us Is A Part Of Ourselves; We Must Die To One Life Before We Can Enter Another.

Yet, Every Now And Then, There Would Pass A Young Girl, Slender, Fair And Desirable, Arousing In Young Men A Not Ignoble Desire To Possess Her, And Stirring In Old Men Regrets For Ecstasy Not Seized And Now Forever Past.

Stupidity Is Far More Dangerous Than Evil, For Evil Takes A Break From Time To Time, Stupidity Does Not.