Come My Little One, And Give Me

Gray Is The Color Of All Theory

We Are Never Further From What We Wish Than When We Believe That We Have What We Wished For.

Normally, The Sciences Distance Themselves From Life And The Return To It Via A Detour.

Dream No Small Dreams For They Have No Power To Move The Hearts Of Men.

Must It Ever Be Thus-that The Source Of Our Happiness Must Also Be The Fountain Of Our Misery? The Full And Ardent Sentiment Which Animated My Heart With The Love Of Nature, Overwhelming Me With A Torrent Of Delight, And Which Brought All Paradise Before Me, Has Now Become An Insupportable Torment, A Demon Which Perpetually Pursues And Harrasses Me.