Barnaby Rich is exceedingly angry with the inventor of the custom, which, however, with a laudable zeal for the honour of his country, he attributes to an Englishman, who, it seems, had his brains beat out with a pottlepot for his ingenuity […]

I leave you gentlemen now, and you will write it. You will interpret. That’s your right. But as I leave you I want you to know—just think how much you’re going to be missing. You won’t have Nixon to kick around anymore, because gentlemen, this is my last press conference, and it will be the one in which I have welcomed the opportunity to test wits with you. I have always respected you. I have sometimes disagreed with you. But unlike some people, I’ve never cancelled a subscription to a paper, and also I never will.

There has been much puffy stuff written about whether Lyell's uniformitarianism permitted variations in intensity of causes, or whether he applied his logic in a consistent way, and whether he assumed indefinite stretches of geological time.

To call him a flaming homosexual would be an understatement, but I think he acts that way just to see people react.