A Mathematician Is Only Perfect

Truth Is A Torch But A Tremendous One. That Is Why We Hurry Past It, Shielding Our Eyes, Indeed, In Fear Of Getting Burned.

At Bottom, No Real Object Is Unpoetical, If The Poet Knows How To Use It Properly.

When Two Men Quarrel, Who Owns The Cooler Head Is The More To Blame.

Rest Not Life Is Sweeping By Go And Dare Before You Die. Something Mighty And Sublime, Leave Behind To Conquer Time.

In Praising Or Loving A Child, We Love And Praise Not That Which Is, But That Which We Hope For.