All good people agree, And all good people say, All nice people, like Us, are We And every one else is They: But if you cross over the sea, Instead of over the way, You may end by (think of it!) looking on We As only a sort of They!

Once there was The People - Terror gave it birth.

Hear and attend and listen; for this befell and behappened and became and was: O my Best Beloved, when the tame animals were wild.

These are the four that are never content: that have never been filled since the dew began- Jacala's mouth, and the glut of the kite, and the hands of the ape, and the eyes of Man.

Never look backwards or you'll fall down the stairs.

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master.

The American has no language, he has a dialect, slang, provincialism, accent and so forth