We know too much and feel too little.

It is only through imagination that men become aware of what the world might be; without it, ‘progress’ would become mechanical and trivial.

It seems to me now that mathematics is capable of an artistic excellence as great as that of any music, perhaps greater; not because the pleasure it gives (although very pure) is comparable, either in intensity or in the number of people who feel it, to that of music, but because it gives in absolute perfection that combination, characteristic of great art, of godlike freedom, with the sense of inevitable destiny; because, in fact, it constructs an ideal world where everything is perfect and yet true.

Mysticism is, in essence, little more than a certain intensity and depth of feeling in regard to what is believed about the universe.

The taboo against nakedness is an obstacle to a decent attitude on the subject of sex.

We are all prone to the malady of the introvert who with the manifold spectacle of the world spread out before him, turns away and gazes only upon the emptiness within.

My own view on religion is . . . It helped in early days to fix the calendar, and . . . to chronicle eclipses . . . These two services I am prepared to acknowledge.