What the deuce is it to me?" he interrupted impatiently: "you say that we go round the sun. If we went round the moon it would not make a pennyworth of difference to me or to my work.

It is quite a three-pipe problem.

'There's no need for fiction in medicine,' remarks Foster... 'for the facts will always beat anything you fancy.'

My life is spent in one long effort to escape from the commonplaces of existence. These little problems help me to do so.

The future was with Fate. The present was our own.

His sanguine spirit turns every firefly into a star.

But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things.