All Powerful Souls Have Kindred With Each

The Moving Moon Went Up The Sky, And Nowhere Did Abide: Softly She Was Going Up, And A Star Or Two Beside.

I Have Seen Great Intolerance Shown In Support Of Tolerance.

What! Did Sir W[alter] R[aleigh] Believe That A Male And Female Ounce (and, If So, Why Not Two Tigers And Lions, Etc?) Would Have Produced, In A Course Of Generations, A Cat, Or A Cat A Lion? This Is Darwinizing With A Vengeance.

I Wish Our Clever Young Poets Would Remember My Homely Definitions Of Prose And Poetry; That Is, Prose = Words In Their Best Order; - Poetry = The Best Words In The Best Order.

There Are Errors Which No Wise Man Will Treat With Rudeness While There Is A Probability That They May Be The Refraction Of Some Great Truth Still Below The Horizon.