I picture the vast realm of the sciences as an immense landscape scattered with patches of dark and light. The goal towards which we must work is either to extend the boundaries of the patches of light, or to increase their number. One of these tasks falls to the creative genius; the other requires a sort of sagacity combined with perfectionism.

For me, my thoughts are my prostitutes.

What is this world? A complex whole, subject to endless revolutions. All these revolutions show a continual tendency to destruction; a swift succession of beings who follow one another, press forward, and vanish; a fleeting symmetry; the order of a moment. I reproached you just now with estimating the perfection of things by your own capacity; and I might accuse you here of measuring its duration by the length of your own days.

First move me, astonish me, break my heart, let me tremble, weep, stare, be enraged-only then regale my eyes.

All things must be examined, debated, investigated without exception and without regard for anyone's feelings.

If you disturb the colors of the rainbow, the rainbow is no longer beautiful.

Distance is a great promoter of admiration.