\Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, IThe wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door
When in 1920 I resumed my studies of theoretical physics which had long been interrupted by circumstances beyond my control, I was far from the idea that my studies would bring me several years later to receive such a higl and envied prize as that awarded by the Swedish Academy of Sciences each year to a scientist: the Nobel Prize for Physics. What at that time drew me towards theoretical physics was not the hope that such a high distinction
