It is not easy to imagine how little interested a scientist usually is in the work of any other, with the possible exception of the teacher who backs him or the student who honors him.

To reflect is to disturb one's thoughts.

Somebody told me I should put a pebble in my mouth to cure my stuttering. Well, I tried it, and during a scene I swallowed the pebble. That was the end of that.

Science has made us gods even before we are worthy of being men.

Beauty in art is often nothing but ugliness subdued.

We find it easy to believe that praise is sincere: why should anyone lie in telling us the truth?

The ideal, without doubt, varies, but its enemies, alas, are always the same.