Quotes
Quotes about Wit
To the natural philosopher, to whom the whole extent of nature belongs, all the individual branches of science constitute the links of an endless chain, from which not one can be detached without destroying the harmony of the whole.
A man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. He sits on a hot stove for a minute, it's longer than any hour. That is relativity.
Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.
We must, however, acknowledge, as it seems to me, that man with all his noble qualities... still bears in his bodily frame the indelible stamp of his lowly origin.
The cell phone has transformed public places into giant phone-a-thons in which callers exist within narcissistic cocoons of private conversations. Like faxes, computer modems and other modern gadgets that have clogged out lives with phony urgency, cell phones represent the 20th Century's escalation of imaginary need. We didn't need cell phones until we had them. Clearly, cell phones cause not only a breakdown of courtesy, but the atrophy of basic skills.
The system of nature, of which man is a part, tends to be self-balancing, self-adjusting, self-cleansing. Not so with technology.
Technology... is a queer thing. It brings you great gifts with one hand, and it stabs you in the back with the other.
The research rat of the future allows experimentation without manipulation of the real world. This is the cutting edge of modeling technology.
The typewriting machine, when played with expression, is no more annoying than the piano when played by a sister or near relation.
Nothing interferes with my concentration. You could put on an orgy in my office and I wouldn't look up. Well, maybe once.
I never pick up an item without thinking of how I might improve it. I never perfected an invention that I did not think about in terms of the service it might give others. I want to save and advance human life, not destroy it. I am proud of the fact that I never invented weapons to kill. The dove is my emblem.
O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to heaven is sent; Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content.
In all my travels I never met with any one Scotchman but what was a man of sense. I believe everybody of that country that has any, leaves it as fast as they can.
Within that awful volume lies The mystery of mysteries! Happiest they of human race, To whom God has granted grace To read, to fear, to hope, to pray, To lift the latch, and force the way: And better had they ne'er been born, Who read to doubt, or read to scorn.
Between the two seas the sea-bird's wing makes halt, Wind-weary; while with lifting head he waits For breath to reinspire him from the gates That open still toward sunrise on the vault High-domed of morning. - Algernon Charles Swinburne,
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sunthaw; whether the eve-drops fall, Heard only in the trances of the blast, Of if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet moon.
Our seasons have no fixed returns, Without our will they come and go; At noon our sudden summer burns, Ere sunset all is snow.
January grey is here, Like a sexton by her grave; February bears the bier, March with grief doth howl and rave, And April weeps--but, O ye hours! Follow with May's fairest flowers.
As witnesses that the things were not done in a corner. - Gen. Thomas Harrison,
Trust him not with your secrets, who, when left alone in your room, turns over your papers.
Trust him not with your secrets, who, when left alone in your room, turns over your papers.
Not to have control over the senses is like sailing in a rudderless ship, bound to break to pieces on coming in contact with the very first rock.
As I walk'd by myself, I talk'd to myself And myself replied to me; And the questions myself then put to myself, With their answers I give to thee.
Summe up at night what thou hast done by day; And in the morning what thou hast to do. Dresse and undresse thy soul; mark the decay And growth of it; if, with thy watch, that too Be down then winde up both; since we shall be Most surely judg'd, make thy accounts agree.
All fame is foreign, but of true desert; Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart: One self approving hour whole years out-weighs Of stupid starers, and of loud huzzas; And more true joy Marcellus exil'd feels, Than Caesar with a senate at his heels.
