It seems to me that God is a convenient invention of the human mind.
The world in general disapproves of creativity, and to be creative in public is particularly bad. Even to speculate in public is rather worrisome.
It is in meeting the great tests that mankind can most successfully rise to great heights. Out of danger and restless insecurity comes the force that pushes mankind to newer and loftier conquests.
And in man is a three-pound brain which, as far as we know, is the most complex and orderly arrangement of matter in the universe.
My feeling is that as far as creativity is concerned, isolation is required. Creation is embarrassing. For every new good idea you have, there are a hundred, ten thousand foolish ones.
There is not a discovery in science, however revolutionary, however sparkling with insight, that does not arise out of what went before.
Past glories are poor feeding.
The intelligent man is never bored.
It is precisely because it is fashionable for Americans to know no science, even though they may be well educated otherwise, that they so easily fall prey to nonsense.
Night will always be a time of fear and insecurity, and the heart will sink with the sun.
Old people think young people haven’t learned about love. Young people think old people have forgotten about love.
Boasts are wind and deeds are hard.
A myth or legend is simply not made up out of a vacuum. Nothing is – or can be. Somehow there is a kernel of truth behind it, however distorted that might be.
Radiation, unlike smoking, drinking, and overeating, gives no pleasure, so the possible victims object.
The great secret of the successful fool is that he’s no fool at all.
A good question is, of course, the key by which infinite answers can be educed.
When, however, the lay public rallies round an idea that is denounced by distinguished but elderly scientists and supports that idea with great fervor and emotion – the distinguished but elderly scientists are then, after all, probably right.
They won’t listen. Do you know why? Because they have certain fixed notions about the past. Any change would be blasphemy in their eyes, even if it were the truth. They don’t want the truth; they want their traditions.
During the century after Newton, it was still possible for a man of unusual attainments to master all fields of scientific knowledge. But by 1800, this had become entirely impracticable.
Was there anything more exciting in life than seeking answers?