Poor Nations are hungry, and rich Nations are proud, and Pride and Hunger will ever be at Variance. — Jonathan Swift

He is taller by almost the breadth of my nail, than any of his court, which alone is enough to strike an awe into the beholders.

He had been eight years upon a project for extracting sunbeams out of cucumbers, which were to be put in vials hermetically sealed, and let out to warm the air in raw inclement summers.

And he gave it for his opinion, that whosoever could make two ears of corn or two blades of grass to grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind, and do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of politicians put together.