The Only Fit Reply To A Fit

Those Ancients Who In Poetry Presented The Golden Age, Who Sang Its Happy State, Perhaps, In Their Parnassus, Dreamt This Place. Here, Mankind's Root Was Innocent; And Here Were Every Fruit And Never-ending Spring; These Streams--the Nectar Of Which Poets Sing.

Knowledge Comes Of Learning Well Retain'd, Unfruitful Else.

If A Thief Helps A Poor Man Out Of The Spoils Of His Thieving, We Must Not Call That Charity.

Into The Eternal Darkness, Into Fire And Into Ice.

The Mouse Had Fallen In With Evil Cats.