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It's strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for
words.
T. S. EliotMathematics, rightly viewed, possesses not only truth, but supreme beauty-a beauty cold and austere, like
that of sculpture. -Bertand Russell, Mysicism and Logic, 1918I never can feel certain of any truth but from a clear perception of its Beauty. -John Keats

XVIII



Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd,

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature's changing course untrimm'd: 

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,

Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,

  So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

  So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

 	--William Shakespeare