Habit is the denial of creativity and the negation of freedom; a self-imposed straitjacket of which the wearer is unaware.

The most persistent sound which reverberates through man's history is the beating of war drums.

Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion.

God is dethroned; and although the incognizant masses are tardy in realizing the event, they feel the icy draught caused by that vacancy. Man enters upon a spiritual ice age; the established churches can no longer provide more than Eskimo huts where their shivering flock huddles together.

The more original a discovery, the more obvious it seems afterwards.

The progress of science, like an ancient desert trail, is strewn with the bleached skeletons of discarded theories, doctrines, and axioms which seemed to possess eternal life.

In any language it is a struggle to make a sentence say exactly what you mean.