Philosophers Are As Jealous As Women; Each

The Works Of Nature First Acquire A Meaning In The Commentaries They Provoke.

Language Is Like Money, Without Which Specific Relative Values May Well Exist And Be Felt, But Cannot Be Reduced To A Common Denominator.

Art Is A Delayed Echo.

Nature Is Like A Beautiful Woman That May Be As Delightfully And As Truly Known At A Certain Distance As Upon A Closer View; As To Knowing Her Through And Through; That Is Nonsense In Both Cases, And Might Not Reward Our Pains.

People Never Believe In Volcanoes Until The Lava Actually Overtakes Them.