The Goodness Of Your True Pun Is

Now This Is The Point. You Fancy Me A Mad. Madmen Know Nothing. But You Should Have Seen Me. You Should Have Seen How Wisely I Proceeded.

Poetry Is The Rhythmical Creation Of Beauty In Words.

The World Is A Great Ocean, Upon Which We Encounter More Tempestuous Storms Than Calms.

A Million Candles Have Burned Themselves Out. Still I Read On. (montresor)

I Seemed To Be Upon The Verge Of Comprehension, Without The Power To Comprehend As Men, At Time, Find Themselves Upon The Brink Of Rememberance, Without Being Able, In The End, To Remember.