Birth is the sudden opening of a window, through which you look out upon a stupendous prospect. For what has happened? A miracle. You have exchanged nothing for the possibility of everything.

If there be a skeptical star I was born under it. Yet I have lived all my days in complete astonishment.

Our business is not to solve problems beyond our mortal powers, but to see to it that our thoughts are not unworthy of the great theme.

Men ardently pursue truth, assuming it will be angels' bread when found.

There is more than a morsel of truth in the saying, "He who hates vice hates mankind."

Our desires attract supporting reasons as a magnet the iron fillings.

All finite things have their roots in the infinite, and if you wish to understand life at all, you cannot tear out its context. And that context, astounding even to bodily eyes, is the heaven of stars and the incredible procession of the great galaxies.