The Books That Everybody Admires Are Those

What We Call Happiness Is What We Do Not Know.

All The Good Writers Of Confessions, From Augustine Onwards, Are Men Who Are Still A Little In Love With Their Sins.

The Wonder Is, Not That The Field Of Stars Is So Vast, But That Man Has Measured It.

The Kingdom Of Heaven Is A Military Autocracy And There Is No Public Opinion In It.

Distrust Even Mathematics; Albeit So Sublime And Highly Perfected, We Have Here A Machine Of Such Delicacy It Can Only Work In Vacuo, And One Grain Of Sand In The Wheels Is Enough To Put Everything Out Of Gear. One Shudders To Think To What Disaster Such A Grain Of Sand May Bring A Mathematical Brain. Remember Pascal.