I Grew Up To Be Indifferent To

Einstein Was A Man Who Could Ask Immensely Simple Questions. And What His Work Showed Is That When The Answers Are Simple Too, Then You Can Hear God Thinking.

A Popular Cliche In Philosophy Says That Science Is Pure Analysis Or Reductionism, Like Taking The Rainbow To Pieces; And Art Is Pure Synthesis, Putting The Rainbow Together. This Is Not So. All Imagination Begins By Analyzing Nature.

By The Worldly Standards Of Public Life, All Scholars In Their Work Are Of Course Oddly Virtuous. They Do Not Make Wild Claims, They Do Not Cheat, They Do Not Try To Persuade At Any Cost, They Appeal Neither To Prejudice Nor To Authority . . .

Science Is A Very Human Form Of Knowledge. We Are Always At The Brink Of The Known; We Always Feel Forward For What Is To Be Hoped. Every Judgment In Science Stands On The Edge Of Error And Is Personal. Science Is A Tribute To What We Can Know Although We Are Fallible.

When Coleridge Tried To Define Beauty, He Returned Always To One Deep Thought; Beauty, He Said, Is Unity In Variety! Science Is Nothing Else Than The Search To Discover Unity In The Wild Variety Of Nature,-or, More Exactly, In The Variety Of Our Experience. Poetry, Painting, The Arts Are The Same Search, In Coleridge's Phrase, For Unity In Variety.