These blessed candles of the night.
O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world That has such people in’t.
There is nothing more thrilling in this world, I think, than having a child that is yours, and yet is mysteriously a stranger.
Men love to wonder, and that is the seed of our science.
It is romantic, you know, the transatlantic telephone. To speak so easily to someone nearly halfway across the globe. The telegraphed photograph—that too is romantic. Science is the greatest romance there is.
As our eyes grow accustomed to sight they armour themselves against wonder.
