Shelley And Keats Were The Last English

I Have Tried To Show Why I Believe That The Biologist Is The Most Romantic Figure On Earth At The Present Day. At First Sight He Seems To Be Just A Poor Little Scrubby Underpaid Man, Groping Blindly Amid The Mazes Of The Ultra-microscopic, Engaging In Bitter And Lifelong Quarrels Over The Nephridia Of Flatworms, Waking Perhaps One Morning To Find That Someone Whose Name He Has Never Heard Has Demolished By A Few Crucial Experiments The Work Which He Had Hoped Would Render Him Immortal.

The Idea Of Protoplasm, Which Was Really A Name For Our Ignorance, [is] Only A Little Less Misleading Than The Expression "vital Force".

An Ounce Of Algebra Is Worth A Ton Of Verbal Argument.

It Seems To Me Immensely Unlikely That Mind Is A Mere By-product Of Matter. For If My Mental Processes Are Determined Wholly By The Motions Of Atoms In My Brain I Have No Reason To Suppose That My Beliefs Are True. They May Be Sound Chemically, But That Does Not Make Them Sound Logically. And Hence I Have No Reason For Supposing My Brain To Be Composed Of Atoms.

Every Christian Church Has Tried To Impose A Code Of Morals Of Some Kind For Which It Has Claimed Divine Sanction. As These Codes Have Always Been Opposed To Those Of The Gospels A Loophole Has Been Left For Moral Progress Such As Hardly Exists In Other Religions.