To love an idea is to love it a little more than one should.

What scientist would not long to go on living, if only to see how the little truths he has brought to light will grow up?

We bestow on others praise in which we do not believe, on condition that in return they bestow upon us praise in which we do.

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.

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

I prefer the honest jargon of reality to the outright lies of books.

When I was young I pitied the old. Now old, it is the young I pity.