Foolish consistencies are the hobgoblins of small minds!
That which we call sin in others is experiment for us.
The stars awaken a certain reverence, because though always present, they are inaccessible.
Science does not know its debt to imagination.
Masses are rude, lame, unmade, pernicious in their demands and influence, and need not to be flattered, but to be schooled. I wish not to concede anything to them, but to tame, drill, divide, and break them up, and draw individuals out of them.
Intellect is void of affection and sees an object as it stands in the light of science, cool and disengaged. The intellect goes out of the individual, floats over its own personality, and regards it as a fact, and not as I and mine.