We're all islands shouting lies to each other across seas of misunderstanding.

A tale from which pieces have been raked out is like a fire that has been poked. One does not know the operation has been performed, but everyone feels the effect.

God gives all men all earth to love, but since man's heart is small, ordains for each one spot shall prove belov?d over all.

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!

A man's mind is wont to tell him more than seven watchmen sitting in a tower.

I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!

We are the opening verse of the opening page of the chapter of endless possibilities.