The thesis you hold in your hands makes plain that for each particle of matter—electron or proton—there exists an associated wave that transports it through space. I realize many of you will doubt my reasoning. I confess that it is the fruit of solitude. I admit its character is bizarre, and I accept whatever calumny may come to me if it is shown to be false. And yet today I say to you with absolute certainty that all things can exist in two ways, and that nothing is as solid as it appears; the stone in the child’s hand, which he aims at the idle sparrow on its branch, could run like water
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