Every Present State Of A Simple Substance

Imaginary Numbers Are A Fine And Wonderful Refuge Of The Divine Spirit Almost An Amphibian Between Being And Non-being.

The World Is Not A Machine. Everything In It Is Force, Life, Thought.

Music Is Nothing But Unconscious Arithmetic.

There Is Nothing Waste, Nothing Sterile, Nothing Dead In The Universe; No Chaos, No Confusions, Save In Appearance.

According To Their [newton And His Followers] Doctrine, God Almighty Wants To Wind Up His Watch From Time To Time: Otherwise It Would Cease To Move. He Had Not, It Seems, Sufficient Foresight To Make It A Perpetual Motion. Nay, The Machine Of God's Making, So Imperfect, According To These Gentlemen; That He Is Obliged To Clean It Now And Then By An Extraordinary Concourse, And Even To Mend It, As Clockmaker Mends His Work.