There Is In The Universe Neither Center

Those Wise Men Knew God To Be In Things, And Divinity To Be Latent In Nature, Working And Glowing Differently In Different Subjects And Succeeding Through Diverse Physical Forms, In Certain Arrangements, In Making Them Participants In Her, I Say, In Her Being, In Her Life And Intellect.

The Beginning, Middle, And End Of The Birth, Growth, And Perfection Of Whatever We Behold Is From Contraries, By Contraries, And To Contraries; And Whatever Contrariety Is, There Is Action And Reaction, There Is Motion, Diversity, Multitude, And Order, There Are Degrees, Succession And Vicissitude.

Make Then Your Forecasts, My Lords Astrologers, With Your Slavish Physicians, By Means Of Those Astrolabes With Which You Seek To Discern The Fantastic Nine Moving Spheres; In These You Finally Imprison Your Own Minds, So That You Appear To Me But As Parrots In A Cage, While I Watch You Dancing Up And Down, Turning And Hopping Within Those Circles.

It May Be You Fear More To Deliver Judgment Upon Me Than I Fear Judgment.

There Is A Single General Space, A Single Vast Immensity Which We May Freely Call Void: In It Are Unnumerable Globes Like This On Which We Live And Grow, This Space We Declare To Be Infinite, Since Neither Reason, Convenience, Sense-perception Nor Nature Assign To It A Limit.