Martin Gardner

The last level of metaphor in the Alice books is this: that life, viewed rationally and without illusion, appears to be a nonsense tale told by an idiot mathematician. At the heart of things science finds only a mad, never-ending quadrille of Mock Turtle Waves and Gryphon Particles. For a moment the waves and particles … Continue reading “Martin Gardner”

The last level of metaphor in the Alice books is this: that life, viewed rationally and without illusion, appears to be a nonsense tale told by an idiot mathematician. At the heart of things science finds only a mad, never-ending quadrille of Mock Turtle Waves and Gryphon Particles. For a moment the waves and particles dance in grotesque, inconceivably complex patterns capable of reflecting on their own absurdity.

Samuel Beckett

I was not made for the great light that devours, a dim lamp was all I had been given, and patience without end, to shine it on the empty shadows.

I was not made for the great light that devours, a dim lamp was all I had been given, and patience without end, to shine it on the empty shadows.