All Nature is but Art, unknown to thee; All chance, direction, which thou canst not see All discord, harmony not understood, All partial evil, universal good: And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, One truth is clear, whatever is, is right.
I shall here write my thoughts without order, and not perhaps in unintentional confusion; that is true order, which will always indicate my object by its very disorder. I should do too much honour to my subject, if I treated it with order, since I want to show that it is incapable of it. (Pascal)