Speech Is The Small Change Of Silence.

She Whom I Love Is Hard To Catch And Conquer, Hard, But O The Glory Of The Winning Were She Won!

The Song Seraphically Free Of Taint Of Personality, So Pure That It Salutes The Suns The Voice Of One For Millions, In Whom The Millions Rejoice For Giving Their One Spirit Voice.

The Well Of True Wit Is Truth Itself.

Ah, What A Dusty Answer Gets The Soul When Hot For Certainties In This Our Life! - In Tragic Hints Here See What Evermore Moves Dark As Yonder Midnight Ocean's Force, Thundering Like Ramping Hosts Of Warrior Horse, To Throw That Faint Thin Fine Upon The Shore!

The Man Of Science Is Nothing If Not A Poet Gone Wrong.