A Quote by Voltaire

The infinitely little have a pride infinitely great. — © Voltaire
The infinitely little have a pride infinitely great.
Science is Christian, not when it condemns itself to the letter of things, but when, in the infinitely little, it discovers as many mysteries and as much depth and power as in the infinitely great
Science is Christian, not when it condemns itself to the letter of things, but when, in the infinitely little, it discovers as many mysteries and as much depth and power as in the infinitely great.
My objection to Christianity is that it is infinitely cruel, infinitely selfish, and, I might add, infinitely absurd.
It is astonishing how much the word infinitely is misused: everything is infinitely more beautiful, infinitely better, etc. The concept must have something pleasing about it, or its misuse could not have become so general.
There is no beyond, there is only here, the infinitely small, infinitely great and utterly demanding present.
The role of the infinitely small in nature is infinitely great.
Calculus required continuity, and continuity was supposed to require the infinitely little; but nobody could discover what the infinitely little might be.
Who then understands the reciprocal flux and reflux of the infinitely great and the infinitely small, the echoing of causes in the abysses of being, and the avalanches of creation?
The universe shudders in horror that we have this infinitely valuable, infinitely deep, infinitely rich, infinitely wise, infinitely loving God, and instead of pursuing him with steadfast passion and enthralled fury — instead of loving him with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength; instead of attributing to him glory and honor and praise and power and wisdom and strength — we just try to take his toys and run. It is still idolatry to want God for his benefits but not for himself.
Whenever I think of God I can only conceive of Him as a Being infinitely great and infinitely good. This last quality of the divine nature inspires me with such confidence and joy that I could have written even a miserere in tempo allegro.
Chess is an infinitely complex game, which one can play in infinitely numerous and varied ways.
It is required to find the infinitely big inside what's infinitely small to feel the presence of God.
Man lives between the infinitely large and the infinitely small.
I am moved by fancies that are curled, around these images and cling, the notion of some infinitely gentle, infinitely suffering thing.
Even austere, puritanical Cambridge of the Sixties was infinitely nicer and infinitely more attractive than the world I'd known before.
Everything is so infinitely simple, so infinitely beautiful.
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