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Georg Buchner

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People like us are unhappy in this world and in the next, I guess if we made it to heaven, we’d have to help make it thunder.
--
Scene VI

 
Georg Buchner

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It pleased the great Creator of the world to make three sorts of living creatures. Angels he made pure spirits, without flesh, and therefore he made them only for heaven and not to dwell on earth. Beasts were made flesh, without immortal souls, and therefore they were made only for the earth and not for heaven: Man is of a middle nature between both, as partaking of both flesh and spirit, so is he made for earth, but as his passage or way to heaven, and not that this should be his home or happiness. The blessed state that man was made for was to behold the glorious majesty of the Lord and to praise him among his holy angels; and to love him, and to be filled with his love forever.

 
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In general we look for a new law by the following process. First we guess it. Then we compute the consequences of the guess to see what would be implied if this law that we guessed is right. Then we compare the result of the computation to nature, with experiment or experience, compare it directly with observation, to see if it works. If it disagrees with experiment it is wrong. In that simple statement is the key to science. It does not make any difference how beautiful your guess is. It does not make any difference how smart you are, who made the guess, or what his name is – if it disagrees with experiment it is wrong. That is all there is to it.

 
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A child gets sick with a chronic disease of unhappiness not from unhappy circumstances but from unhappy people around him. Unhappy people cannot raise happy children; it’s impossible.

 
Simon Soloveychik
 

I do my best to hide this low-down feelin'.
I try to make believe there's nothing wrong.
But they're always askin me about you, darlin
And it hurts me so to tell 'em that you're gone.
If they ask me I guess I'd be denyin' that I've been unhappy all alone.
But if they heard my heart, they'd hear it cryin'
Where's my darling, when's she comin home?'

 
Johnny Cash
 

What comes now? The earth awaits
What fierce wonder from the skies?
Thunder, trampling through the night?
Morning, with illustrious eyes?
Morning, from the springs of light:
Thunder, round Heaven's opening gates.

 
Lionel Johnson
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