Ah, Lord, if I doubt You, it is perhaps because You hide Yourself so well. — Jack Mcdevitt

A man is entitled to only one great passion in a lifetime. Whether it’s music or a profession or a woman, everything else pales in its afterglow. The searing shock so changes one’s chemistry that if the object is lost, the experience can never be repeated. Only anticlimax remains.

It had occurred to Rimford, at about the time he approached fifty, that the chief drawback in contemplating the enormous gulfs of time and space that constitute the bricks and mortar of the cosmologist is that one acquires a dismaying perception of the handful of years allotted a human being.

Secrecy is a compulsive reflex in this country. It strangles thought, delays scientific progress, and destroys integrity.