Truth Rings No Bells.

When ... I Comprehended That Poetry Had No Provision In It For Ultimate Practical Attainment Of The Rightness Of Work That Is Truth, But Led On Ever Only To A Temporizing Less- Than-truth ... I Stopped.

Truth Rings No Bells.

Conversation Succeeds Conversation, Until There's Nothing Left To Talk About Except Truth, The Perennial Monologue, And No Talker To Dispute It But Itself.

Every Thought Sounds Like A Footfall, Till A Thought Like A Boot Kicks Down The Wall.

We Shall Know That We Have Begun To Speak True By An Increased Hunger For True-speaking; We Shall Have The Whole Hunger Only After We Have Given Ourselves The First Taste Of It.