Mathematics is the language with which God has written the universe.

The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Turns Ashes—or it prospers; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, Lighting a little hour or two—is gone.

The past is never dead. It's not even past.

我感激每一刻。

Writing is a way of making sense of the world, and of making sense of ourselves.