Fame Often Makes A Writer Vain, But

A Poet Is A Professional Maker Of Verbal Objects.

How Happy The Lot Of The Mathematician. He Is Judged Solely By His Peers, And The Standard Is So High That No Colleague Or Rival Can Ever Win A Reputation He Does Not Deserve.

God May Reduce You On Judgment Day To Tears Of Shame, Reciting By Heart The Poems You Would Have Written, Had Your Life Been Good.

As A Rule, It Was The Pleasure-haters Who Became Unjust.

Without Art, We Should Have No Notion Of The Sacred; Without Science, We Should Always Worship False Gods.