Poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars - mere globs of gas atoms.
Nothing is "mere." I too can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. But do I see less or more?
The vastness of the heavens stretches my imagination - stuck on this carousel my little eye can catch million-year-old-light
What is the pattern, or of meaning, or the why? It does not do harm to the mystery to know a little about it. For far more marvelous is the truth than any artist of the past imagined! Why do the poets of the present not speak of it?
What men are poets who can speak of Jupiter if he were like a man, but if he is an immense spinning sphere of methane and ammonia must be silent?
Six Easy Pieces - Richard Feynman, 1918 - 1988
Feynman spoke at our Society of Physics students, while I was in Grad school. He was a breathtaking scientist and breathtaking teacher. If our world were to be informed by science allowing us to enjoy art, poetry, literature, and music, as Richard sought to do - we'd be much better off than we are today.
