A year past, sour memories taint
Another fresh life starts.
A decade past, immature, arrogant,
Time mellows and heals, lessons learnt.
Three decades, a half lifetime ?
Or close to full, pysche pushed ?
Extremes attracted, a mind unrest,
Oscillated, annihilated, wishes contracted.
Shall the new cycle bring anew,
Experiences, joy and sorrow alike ?
I pray so, for life feeble and short,
Nothing satisfies than extending limits.
It always bothers me that, according to the laws as we understand them today, it takes a computing machine an infinite number of logical operations to figure out what goes on in no matter how tiny a region of space, and no matter how tiny a region of time. How can all that be going on in that tiny space? Why should it take an infinite amount of logic to figure out what one tiny piece of space/time is going to do? So I have often made the hypothesis that ultimately physics will not require a mathematical statement, that in the end the machinery will be revealed, and the laws will turn out to be simple, like the chequer board with all its apparent complexities.
– R. P. Feynman, Character of Physical Law, November 1964 Cornell Lectures, broadcast and published in 1965 by BBC, pp. 57-8.