Prometheus Is Reaching Out For The Stars

To Want To Meet An Author Because You Like His Books Is As Ridiculous As Wanting To Meet The Goose Because You Like Pate De Foie Gras.

Prometheus Is Reaching Out For The Stars With An Empty Grin On His Face.

We Cannot Unthink Unless We Are Insane.

Man's Destiny Was No Longer Determined From 'above' By A Super-human Wisdom And Will, But From 'below' By The Sub-human Agencies Of Glands, Genes, Atoms, Or Waves Of Probability. ...they Could Determine His Fate, But Could Provide Him With No Moral Guidance, No Values And Meaning. A Puppet Of The Gods Is A Tragic Figure, A Puppet Suspended On His Chromosomes Is Merely Grotesque.

Einstein's Space Is No Closer To Reality Than Van Gogh's Sky . The Glory Of Science Is Not In A Truth More Absolute Than The Truth Of Bach Or Tolstoy, But In The Act Of Creation Itself. The Scientist's Discoveries Impose His Own Order On Chaos, As The Composer Or Painter Imposes His; An Order That Always Refers To Limited Aspects Of Reality, And Is Based On The Observer's Frame Of Reference, Which Differs From Period To Period As A Rembrant Nude Differs From A Nude By Manet.