The geometric language is after all only a language. Space is only a word that we have believed a thing. - Henri Poincaré

The greatest chance is the birth of a great man. It is only by chance that two reproductive cells, of different sexes, met, each containing precisely those mysterious elements whose mutual reaction was to produce genius. We will agree that these elements must be rare and that their meeting is even rarer. That it would have taken little to deviate the spermatozoon that carried them from its course; it would have been enough to deviate it by a tenth of a millimeter and Napoleon would not have been born and the destiny of a continent would have been changed. No other example can better explain the true nature of chance.

The very possibility of mathematical science seems an insoluble contradiction. If this science is only deductive in appearance, from whence is derived that perfect rigour which is challenged by none? If, on the contrary, all the propositions which it enunciates may be derived in order by the rules of formal logic, how is it that mathematics is not reduced to a gigantic tautology? The syllogism can teach us nothing essentially new, and if everything must spring from the principle of identity, then everything should be capable of being reduced to that principle. Are we then to admit that the enunciations of all the theorems with which so many volumes are filled, are only indirect ways of saying that A is A?

What we call geometry is nothing but the study of formal properties of a certain continuous group; so that we may say, space is a group. The notion of this continuous group exists in our mind prior to all experience; but the assertion is no less true of the notion of many other continuous groups; for example, that which corresponds to the geometry of Lobatchevski.