Entering a cell, penetrating deep as a flying saucer to find a new galaxy would be an honorable task for a new scientist interested more in the inner state of the soul than in outer space.

When the star dies, Its eye closes; tired of watching, It flies back to its first bright dream.

Teaching others, he corrected himself.

Through words to the meaning of thoughts with no words.

In every sound, the hidden silence sleeps.

From whichever side I start, I think I am in an old place where others have been before me.

Mathematics doesn’t care about those beyond the numbers.