Poetry Is A Kind Of Ingenious Nonsense.

He Who Thinks Half-heartedly Will Not Believe In God; But He Who Really Thinks Has To Believe In God.

I See I Have Made Myself A Slave To Philosophy, But If I Get Free Of Mr. Linus's Business I Will Resolutely Bid Adew To It Eternally, Excepting For What I Do For My Private Satisfaction Or Leave To Come Out After Me. For I See A Man Must Either Resolve To Put Out Nothing New Or To Become A Slave To Defend It.

For The Rays, To Speak Properly, Have No Colour. In Them There Is Nothing Else Than A Certain Power And Disposition To Stir Up A Sensation Of This Colour Or That.

I Keep The Subject Of My Inquiry Constantly Before Me, And Wait Till The First Dawning Opens Gradually, By Little And Little, Into A Full And Clear Light.

The Latest Authors, Like The Most Ancient, Strove To Subordinate The Phenomena Of Nature To The Laws Of Mathematics.