I have told you that over and over," Brother Bonaday would protest.

"My dear fellow, I know you have; but the devil is, that means something different every time." -- "The purpose of all right motion," Brother Copas was saying, "is to get back to the point from which you started.

Take the sun itself, or any created mass; take the smallest molecule in that mass; take the world whichever way you will--" 'Behold the world, how it is whirled round! And, for it so is whirl'd, is named so.' "(There's pretty etymology for you!) All movement in a straight line is eccentric, lawless, or would be were it possible, which I doubt.
Why this haste, then, in passing given points?
If man did it in a noble pride, as a _tour de force_, to prove himself so much the cleverer than the brute creation, I could understand it; but if that's his game, a speck of radium beats him in a common canter.
I read in a scientific paper last week, in a signed article which bore every impress of truth, that there's a high explosive that will run a spark from here to Paris while you are pronouncing its name.
Yet extend that run, and run it far and fast as you will, it can only come back to your hand.

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