If pain could have cured us we should long ago have been saved.

What better comfort have we, or what other Profit in living Than to feed, sobered by the truth of Nature, Awhile upon her beauty, And hand her torch of gladness to the ages Following after?

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

If all art aspires to the condition of music, all the sciences aspire to the condition of mathematics.

I believe in the possibility of happiness, if one cultivates intuition and outlives the grosser passions, including optimism.

Perhaps the universe is nothing but an equilibrium of idiocies.

History is always written wrong, and so always needs to be rewritten.