The Ultimate Truth Is Penultimately A Falsehood.

The Discoveries Of Yesterday Are The Truisms Of Tomorrow, Because We Can Add To Our Knowledge But Cannot Subtract From It.

In My Youth I Regarded The Universe As An Open Book, Printed In The Language Of Equations, Whereas Now It Appears To Me As A Text Written In Invisible Ink, Of Which In Our Rare Moments Of Grace We Are Able To Decipher A Small Segment.

Honor Is Decency Without Vanity.

The Progress Of Science, Like An Ancient Desert Trail, Is Strewn With The Bleached Skeletons Of Discarded Theories, Doctrines, And Axioms Which Seemed To Possess Eternal Life.

History Had A Slow Pulse; Man Counted In Years, History In Generations