To: Ilaine who wrote (31264 ) 7/8/1999 4:29:00 PM From: Jacques Chitte Read Replies (3) | Respond to of 71178
A friend has a database of quotes and sometimes compiles topical lists. This one came under the heading "sources of light". Light (God's eldest daughter) is a principal beauty in building. Thomas Fuller (1608-1661) We are all worms. But I do believe I am a glowworm. Winston Churchill (1874-1965) Thunder is good, thunder is impressive; but it is lightning that does the work. Mark Twain (1835-1910) Knowing why Betelgeuse is red may add to the pleasure of looking at the winter sky. Steven Weinberg, Scientific American, Oct. (1994) What we're doing is mainly a cultural and intellectual contribution to the sum total of human knowledge and that's why we do it. If there turn out to be potential applications, that's fine and dandy, but we think that it's important for the human race to know where sunlight comes from. William Fowler The lighting effects beggar description. The whole country was lighted by a searing light with the intensity many times that of the midday sun. It was golden, purple, violet, gray, and blue. It lighted every peak, crevasse and ridge of the near-by mountain range with a clarity and beauty that cannot be described but must be seen to be imagined. It was that beauty the great poets dream about but describe most poorly and inadequately. Brigadier General Thomas A. Farrell, describing the first atomic bomb explosion (the Trinity test). Source: "The Atomic Age Opens," World Publishing Company, 1945 Orlando that same night lies wide awake, His thoughts, distracted, rambling here, now there. He tries to concentrate but cannot make His troubled conscience settle anywhere, As on the crystal surface of a lake The trembling shafts of sunlight mirrored are, Leaping to roof-top, and, at random glancing, Sparkle and gleam, in all directions dancing. Ariosto (transl. Barbara Reynolds) ''The stars are made of the same atoms as the earth''. I usually pick one small topic like this to give a lecture on. Poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars-- mere gobs of gas atoms. Nothing is ''mere''. I too can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. But do I see less or more? The vastness of the heavens stretches my imagination-- stuck on this carousel my little eye can catch one-million-year-old light. A vast pattern-- of which I am a part-- perhaps my stuff was belched from some forgotten star, as one is belching there. Or see them with the greater eye of Palomar, rushing all apart from some common starting point when they were perhaps all together. What is the pattern, or the meaning, or the *why?* It does not do harm to the mystery to know a little about it. For far more marvelous is the truth than any artists of the past imagined! Why do the poets of the present not speak of it? What men are poets who can speak of Jupiter if he were like a man, but if he is an immense spinning sphere of methane and ammonia must be silent? Richard P. Feynman (1918-1988)