People Make Filthy Things With The Freedom

I Believe In No Final Solutions.

Come, Every Frustum Longs To Be A Cone, And Every Vector Dreams Of Matrices. Hark To The Gentle Gradient Of The Breeze: It Whispers Of A More Ergodic Zone.

Burn With That Consuming Fire Of Objectivity That Forces A Man To Renew Efforts That Are Doomed To Failure.

A Smart Machine Will First Consider Which Is More Worth Its While: To Perform The Given Task Or, Instead, To Figure Some Way Out Of It.

It Is Not Good For A Man To Be Too Cognizant Of His Physical And Spiritual Mechanisms. Complete Knowledge Reveals Limits To Human Possibilities, And The Less A Man Is By Nature Limited In His Purposes, The Less He Can Tolerate Limits.