The progress of science is strewn, like an ancient desert trail, with the bleached skeleton of discarded theories which once seemed to possess eternal life.
A publisher who writes is like a cow in a milk bar.
The prerequisite of originality is the art of forgetting, at the proper moment, what we know.
Creative activity could be described as a type of learning process where teacher and pupil are located in the same individual.
Scientists are peeping toms at the keyhole of eternity.
Politics can be relatively fair in the breathing spaces of history; at its critical turning points there is no other rule possible than the old one, that the end justifies the means.