There Is No Good Father Who Would

Those Authors Into Whose Hands Nature Has Placed A Magic Wand, With Which They No Sooner Touch Us Than We Forget The Unhappiness In Life, Than The Darkness Leaves Our Soul, And We Are Reconciled To Existence, Should Be Placed Among The Benefactors Of The Human Race.

We Are A Free People; And Now You Have Planted In Our Country The Title Deeds Of Our Future Slavery. You Are Neither God Nor Demon; Who Are You, Then, To Make Slaves? Orou! You Understand The Language Of These Men, Tell Us All, As You Have Told Me, What They Have Written On This Sheet Of Metal: This Country Is Ours. This Country Yours? And Why? Because You Have Walked Thereon? If A Tahitian Landed One Day On Your Shores, And Scratched On One Of Your Rocks Or On The Bark Of Your Trees: This Country Belongs To The People Of Tahiti - What Would You Think?

One May Demand Of Me That I Should Seek Truth, But Not That I Should Find It

I Picture The Vast Realm Of The Sciences As An Immense Landscape Scattered With Patches Of Dark And Light. The Goal Towards Which We Must Work Is Either To Extend The Boundaries Of The Patches Of Light, Or To Increase Their Number. One Of These Tasks Falls To The Creative Genius; The Other Requires A Sort Of Sagacity Combined With Perfectionism.

What Is A Monster? A Being Whose Survival Is Incompatible With The Existing Order.