We May As Well Cut

All Discussion Of The Ultimate Nature Of Things Must Necessarily Be Barren Unless We Have Some Extraneous Standards Against Which To Compare Them.

In This Model, The Sun Is A Very Tiny Speck Of Dust Indeed-a Speck Less Than A Three-thousandth Of An Inch In Diameter ... Think Of The Sun As Something Less Than A Speck Of Dust In A Vast City, Of The Earth As Less Than A Millionth Part Of Such A Speck Of Dust, And We Have Perhaps As Vivid A Picture As The Mind Can Really Grasp Of The Relation Of Our Home In Space To The Rest Of The Universe.

The Human Race, Whose Intelligence Dates Back Only A Single Tick Of The Astronomical Clock, Could Hardly Hope To Understand So Soon What It All Means.

The Universe Can Best Be Pictured As Consisting Of Pure Thought, The Thought Of What For Want Of A Better Word We Must Describe As A Mathematical Thinker.

The Motion Of The Stars Over Our Heads Is As Much An Illusion As That Of The Cows, Trees And Churches That Flash Past The Windows Of Our Train.