You Find It

The fact that when we die we are nothing more than worm meat---I just don't think about it.

If Edison had a needle to find in a haystack, he would proceed at once with the diligence of the bee to examine straw after straw until he found the object of his search... I was a sorry witness of such doings, knowing that a little theory and calculation

Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas, ease after war, death after life does greatly please.