Her story done, the maiden begg’d of me To set out for my kingdom, with the dawn. “Not yet,” said I, “not yet,” and then I made The passes with my hands and fix’d my will To sway her will, till, with a questioning glance, She fell into a calm, Mesmeric sleep.

Were we to take a portion of the skin, and contemplate its exquisite sensibility, so finely appropriated […] we should have no occasion to draw our argument, for the twentieth time, from the structure of the eye or the ear.

Strong waters pierce metals, and will touch upon gold, that will not touch upon silver.

2021-11-19, Dubin, Jared, “Tyler Herro Went Through A Sophomore Slump. Now He's Making A Junior Jump.”, in FiveThirtyEight: