A Dead Man Who Never

How Happy Is The Lot Of The Mathematician! He Is Judged Solely By His Peers, And The Standard Is So High That No Colleague Or Rival Can Ever Win A Reputation He Does Not Deserve. No Cashier Writes A Letter To The Press Complaining About The Incomprehensibility Of Modern Mathematics And Comparing It Unfavorably With The Good Old Days When Mathematicians Were Content To Paper Irregularly Shaped Rooms And Fill Bathtubs Without Closing The Waste Pipe.

In The Deserts Of The Heart Let The Healing Fountain Start.

A Real Book Is Not One That We Read, But One That Reads Us.

We Are All Here On Earth To Help Others; What On Earth The Others Are Here For I Don't Know.

What Answer To The Meaning Of Existence Should One Require Beyond The Right To Exercise One's Gifts?