If honor calls, where'er she points the way The sons of honor follow, and obey.

Who often, but without success, have prayed for apt Alliteration's artful aid.

England a fortune-telling host, As num'rous as the stars, could boast; Matrons, who toss the cup, and see The grounds of Fate in grounds of tea.

Genius is of no country.

Nature listening stood, whilst Shakespeare play'd And wonder'd at the work herself had made.

When satire flies abroad on falsehood's wing, Short is her life, and impotent her sting; But when to truth allied, the wound she gives Sinks deep, and to remotest ages lives.

The surest way to health, say what they will, Is never to suppose we shall be ill; Most of the ills which we poor mortals know From doctors and imagination flow.

Weak is that throne, and in itself unsound, Which takes not solid virtue for its ground.

A joke's a very serious thing.

No tribute is laid on castles in the air.

The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shown To saints whose lives are better than his own.

June cackled with delight, muttering, "Whoops!" as a car almost killed them.

In the city fields Contemplating cherry-trees...Strangers are like friends

She hates her heart, that misguided organ in her chest. Why didn't it warn her?

Don't lose the dreams inside your head They'll only be there until you're dead Dream

I was very fortunate to hook up with Jerry in the first place. The network was already committed to doing something with him, so I skipped a couple of hundred steps right there.

We are born for cooperation, as are the feet, the hands, the eyelids, and the upper and lower jaws.

Like a snowplow in overdrive, a supernova shockwave might sweep away any gas clouds in its path.

I do not think it is permitted that a better man be harmed by a worse.

The force of character is cumulative.

Glory in nothing, but only in this, that you are in Christ. For God chose you in him; the being you had was in him before the world was.