It Is Delivery That Makes

My Poor Head Is In Such A Whirl, My Mind Is All In Bits.

What Reason Would Grope For In Vain, Spontaneous Impulse Ofttimes Achieves At A Stroke, With Light And Pleasureful Guidance.

A Mathematician Is Only Perfect Insofar As He Is A Perfect Man, Sensitive To The Beauty Of Truth.

To Be Loved For What One Is, That Is The Greatest Exception. The Great Majority Love In Others Only What They Lend Him; Their Own Selves, Their Version Of Him.

When An Idea Is Wanting, A Word Can Always Be Found To Take Its Place.