The Case For My Life... Is This:

No Mathematician Should Ever Allow Him To Forget That Mathematics, More Than Any Other Art Or Science, Is A Young Man's Game. ... Galois Died At Twenty-one, Abel At Twenty-seven, Ramanujan At Thirty-three, Riemann At Forty. There Have Been Men Who Have Done Great Work Later; ... [but] I Do Not Know Of A Single Instance Of A Major Mathematical Advance Initiated By A Man Past Fifty. ... A Mathematician May Still Be Competent Enough At Sixty, But It Is Useless To Expect Him To Have Original Ideas.

There Is No Scorn More Profound, Or On The Whole More Justifiable, Than That Of The Men Who Make For The Men Who Explain.

I Do Not Remember Having Felt, As A Boy, Any Passion For Mathematics, And Such Notions As I May Have Had Of The Career Of A Mathematician Were Far From Noble. I Thought Of Mathematics In Terms Of Examinations And Scholarships: I Wanted To Beat Other Boys, And This Seemed To Be The Way In Which I Could Do So Most Decisively.

The Theory Of Numbers, More Than Any Other Branch Of Mathematics, Began By Being An Experimental Science. Its Most Famous Theorems Have All Been Conjectured, Sometimes A Hundred Years Or More Before They Were Proved; And They Have Been Suggested By The Evidence Of A Mass Of Computations.

Good Work Is No Done By "humble" Men. It Is One Of The First Duties Of A Professor, For Example, In Any Subject, To Exaggerate A Little Both The Importance Of His Subject And His Own Importance In It. A Man Who Is Always Asking "is What I Do Worth While?" And "am I The Right Person To Do It?" Will Always Be Ineffective Himself And A Discouragement To Others. He Must Shut His Eyes A Little And Think A Little More Of His Subject And Himself Than They Deserve. This Is Not Too Difficult: It Is Harder Not To Make His Subject And Himself Ridiculous By Shutting His Eyes Too Tightly.