It Is With Logic That

The Scientist Does Not Study Nature Because It Is Useful; He Studies It Because He Delights In It, And He Delights In It Because It Is Beautiful.

I Entered An Omnibus To Go To Some Place Or Other. At That Moment When I Put My Foot On The Step The Idea Came To Me, Without Anything In My Former Thoughts Seeming To Have Paved The Way For It, That The Transformations I Had Used To Define The Fuchsian Functions Were Identical With Non-euclidean Geometry.

It Is With Logic That One Proves; It Is With Intuition That One Invents.

One Would Have To Have Completely Forgotten The History Of Science So As To Not Remember That The Desire To Know Nature Has Had The Most Constant And The Happiest Influence On The Development Of Mathematics.

The Scientist Does Not Study Nature Because It Is Useful To Do So. He Studies It Because He Takes Pleasure In It, And He Takes Pleasure In It Because It Is Beautiful. If Nature Were Not Beautiful It Would Not Be Worth Knowing, And Life Would Not Be Worth Living. I Am Not Speaking, Of Course, Of The Beauty Which Strikes The Senses, Of The Beauty Of Qualities And Appearances. I Am Far From Despising This, But It Has Nothing To Do With Science. What I Mean Is That More Intimate Beauty Which Comes From The Harmonious Order Of Its Parts, And Which A Pure Intelligence Can Grasp.