I have only a small flickering light to guide me in the darkness of a thick forest. Up comes a theologian and blows it out.

Does anyone really know where they're going to?

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.

The man who first pronounced the barbarous word God ought to have been immediately destroyed.

It is raining bombs on the house of the Lord. I go in fear and trembling lest one of these terrible bombers gets into difficulties.

I feel, I think, I judge; therefore, a part of organized matter like me is capable of feeling, thinking, and judging.

I have only a small flickering light to guide me in the darkness of a thick forest. Up comes a theologian and blows it out.