In Our Ideals We Unwittingly Reveal Our

We Give Others Praise Which We Ourselves Don't Believe, As Long As They Respond With Praise We Can Believe.

The Books One Has Written In The Past Have Two Surprises In Store: One Couldn't Write Them Again, And Wouldn't Want To.

A Body Of Work Such As Pasteur's Is Inconceivable In Our Time: No Man Would Be Given A Chance To Create A Whole Science. Nowadays A Path Is Scarcely Opened Up When The Crowd Begins To Pour In.

The Nobility Of A Human Being Is Strictly Independent Of That Of His Convictions.

We Find It Easy To Believe That Praise Is Sincere: Why Should Anyone Lie In Telling Us The Truth?