Who Ever Is Out Of Patience Is

One Always Starts Work With The Subject, No Matter How Tenuous It Is, And One Constructs An Artificial Structure By Which One Can Trap The Reality Of The Subject-matter That One Has Started From.

Our Humanity Is A Poor Thing, Except For The Divinity That Stirs Within Us.

Certainly Virtue Is Like Precious Odors, Most Fragrant When They Are Incensed, Or Crushed: For Prosperity Doth Best Discover Vice, But Adversity Doth Best Discover Virtue.

He Who Desires Solitude Is Either An Animal Or A God.

The Only Hope [of Science] ... Is In Genuine Induction.