Muhammad ibn Musa al-Khwarizmi

Some problems are like a stubborn camel: they refuse to move until you find the right leverage, or perhaps a bigger stick.

To those who say mathematics is dry, I say they haven't yet discovered the intoxicating wine of a well-solved equation.

The number zero, much like a good advisor, appears to be nothing, yet without it, all else falls into chaos.

If a man cannot grasp the concept of 'x', how can he hope to understand the complexities of the universe, or indeed, his own wife's mind?

They say the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. I say the shortest distance to understanding is often a convoluted path of trial and error.

My algorithms are like a well-trained servant: they do exactly what you tell them, even if what you tell them is utterly foolish.

To argue with a fool about mathematics is like trying to teach a donkey to recite poetry. Both endeavors are equally fruitless and likely to result in a kick.

Some scholars prefer to count stars; I prefer to count the ways in which men misunderstand simple arithmetic.

The beauty of algebra is that it allows us to solve problems without knowing what we're solving for, which, I admit, sounds remarkably like life itself.

A true mathematician can find order in chaos, and chaos in the most orderly of tax ledgers.

My work is not about numbers, but about the patterns that govern them. Much like a good tailor understands the fabric, not just the threads.

If you cannot explain your solution simply, then you do not understand it well enough. Or, perhaps, you are trying to hide its flaws.

The universe, it seems, is quite fond of equations. It's a pity more people aren't.

I have found that the most profound truths are often hidden behind the simplest of calculations, much like a king disguised as a commoner.

To err is human, to calculate is divine. To correct one's errors, however, is truly a sign of wisdom.

Some problems are best approached with a sharp mind; others, with a blunt instrument and a good deal of patience.

The beauty of a perfect proof is that it leaves no room for doubt, only for admiration. Or, in some cases, envy.

They say the pen is mightier than the sword. I say a well-placed number can bring down an empire.

My greatest fear is not of a wrong answer, but of a question that has no answer at all. Though, even then, the pursuit is its own reward.

The world is full of mysteries, but few are as perplexing as why some men insist on using Roman numerals.