Nature is full of by-ends. A moth feeds on a petal, in a moment the pollen caught on its breast will be wedding this blossom to another in the next county.

Let truth be a banner big enough to hide the man who holds it up.

Form may be of more account than substance. A lens of ice will focus a solar beam to a blaze.

When we try to imagine a chaos we fail. ... In its very fiber the mind is an order and refuses to build a chaos.

To render aid to the worthless is sheer waste. Rain does not freshen the Dead Sea, but only enables it to dissolve more salt.

Degree is much: the whole Atlantic might be lukewarm and never boil us a potato.

Truth is better disengaged from error than torn from it.