"What did some one say to me, not long since, Babbalanja, when in the matter of that sleepy song of mine, Braid-Beard bestowed upon me an equivocal compliment?
Was I not told to wrest commendation from it, though I tortured it to the quick ?" "Take thy own pills, philosopher," said Mohi.
"Then would he be a great original," said Media.
"Tell me, Yoomy," said Babbalanja, "are you not in fault?
Because I sometimes speak wisely, you must not imagine that I should always act so." "I never imagined that," said Yoomy, "and, if I did, the truth would belie me.

It is you who are in fault, Babbalanja; not I, craving your pardon." "The minstrel's sides are all edges to-day," said Media.
"This, then, thrice gentle Yoomy, is what I would say;" resumed Babbalanja, "that since we philosophers bestow so much wisdom upon others, it is not to be wondered at, if now and then we find what is left in us too small for our necessities.

It is from our very abundance that we want." "And from the fool's poverty," said Media, "that he is opulent; for his very simplicity, is sometimes of more account than the wisdom of the sage.

But we were discoursing of the Tapparians.

Babbalanja: sententiously you have acquitted yourself to admiration; now amplify, and tell us more of the people of Pimminee." "My lord, I might amplify forever." "Then, my worshipful lord, let him not begin," interposed Braid-Beard.
"I mean," said Babbalanja, "that all subjects are inexhaustible, however trivial; as the mathematical point, put in motion, is capable of being produced into an infinite line." "But forever extending into nothing," said Media.