In a Monday tweet, Elon Musk wrote “humankind,” followed by the 1,800-year-old classical Chinese poem The Quatrain of Seven Steps.
Here is the poem translated into English by Moss Roberts:
Beans a simmer on a beanstalk flame
From inside the pot expressed their ire:
“Alive we sprouted on a single root—
What’s your rush to cook us on the fire?”
The verses were read more

“Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas.” – Albert Einstein

“Mathematics is the music of reason.” — James Joseph Sylvester

“A mathematician who is not also something of a poet will never be a complete mathematician.” — Karl Weierstrass

“Nature is written in mathematical language.” — Galileo Galilei

“The pure mathematician, like the musician, is a free creator of his world of ordered read more


We love books, and our friends at UNESCO agree. The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization proposed World Book Day as a day of celebrating the joy of reading for enjoyment.

One hundred countries observe World Book Day, and why not? Children who regularly read for enjoyment have higher test scores, develop a broader vocabulary, increased general knowledge and a better understanding of other read more


“I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars,
And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren,
And the tree-toad is a chef-d’oeuvre for the highest,
And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven,
And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery,
And the cow crunching with depress’d head surpasses any statue,
And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions read more

Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star!
Whose tearful beam glows tremulously far,
That show’st the darkness thou canst not dispel,
How like art thou to joy remember’d well!

So gleams the past, the light of other days,
Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays;
A night-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold,
Distinct but distant — clear — but, oh how cold!

Sun Of The Sleepless! – Poem by Lord Byron

‘Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro’ the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
‘Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold- too cold for me-
There pass’d, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening read more