It Is A Question Whether, When We

No People Are More Conceited Than Those Who Depict Their Own Feelings, Especially If They Happen To Have A Little Prose At Their Command For The Occasion.

One Must Judge Men Not By Their Opinions, But By What Their Opinions Have Made Of Them.

Here Take Back The Stuff That I Am, Nature, Knead It Back Into The Dough Of Being, Make Of Me A Bush, A Cloud, Whatever You Will, Even A Man, Only No Longer Make Me.

There Is No Greater Impediment To Progress In The Sciences Than The Desire To See It Take Place Too Quickly.

The Noble Simplicity In The Works Of Nature Only Too Often Originates In The Noble Shortsightedness Of Him Who Observes It.