One might call habit a moral friction: something that prevents the mind from gliding over things but connects it with them and makes it hard for it to free itself from them.

In each of us there is a little of all of us.

All mathematical laws which we find in Nature are always suspect to me, in spite of their beauty. They give me no pleasure. They are merely auxiliaries. At close range it is all not true.

Ideas too are a life and a world.

Many a man who is willing to be shot for his belief in a miracle would have doubted, had he been present at the miracle itself.

The celebrated painter Gainsborough got as much pleasure from seeing violins as from hearing them.

With God thoughts are colors, with us they are pigments-even the most abstract one may be accompanied by physical pain.