A hundred thousand men were led By one calf near three centuries dead; They followed still his crooked way And lost a hundred years a day; For thus such reverence is lent To well-established precedent.

Strew gladness on the paths of men- You will not pass this way again.

I say the very things that make the greatest Stir An' the most interestin' things, are things that did n't occur.

There are purple grapes in the Land of Git-Thare.