Many feel worried about being labeled a homophone.  And for good reason!  Homophones live in constant turmoil.  They might be inappropriately complimented on their tails instead of their tales.  They may seek a night out and instead find themselves with an out knight.  Oiling up for a hot sun in the sky, they may find themselves burning for a hot son in this guy.  They may fear that wholly idle hours "could make a holy idol ours."  Their addressed mail could transform into a dressed male.  They can forget joining aural sects.  They must be careful lest they gaze farther at a gay's father.  The very idea of wresting yore feat on a pouffe leaves them utterly confused.  

Here's some maledicta punctuated by firecrackers, from Purdue's 1916 yearbook.

"Text fly within the book only."  At first, we interpreted that as, "words take flight within the confines of the book covers."  Given that the book in question (scanned here by Archive.org) is about Merlin, that felt about right.  (Even so, one might argue otherwise, that text can fly outside of a book as well; consider some persons being "crammed to the throat with Scripture, so that they cannot open their mouths but a text flies out" [An Inquiry Into the Nature of Responsibility by T. Simmons Mackintosh, 1840]).  But then we realized that a "text fly" is what emerges from a bookworm's cocoon ... and so this particular book has encased or imprisoned a text fly, presumably for entomologists.

The last two words in this book are not "the end" but "the beginning."  In fact, any author can finish a book this way and thereby turn it into a living text.  A doodle of a crown is optional but can't hurt.  From The Sword in the Stone, written and illustrated by T. H. White, 1939.

Here's a mention of a nonsensical vowelless word ... and we wish the consonants in question had been included, because it might very well have appeared in Webster's Dictionary of Improbable Words: All-Consonant and All-Vowel Words.

From Million Dollar Baby by Amy Patricia Meade, 2006

To this day, there are fewer than 50 Google results for the word "phototures."  From Rockingham's 1970 yearbook.

"It was a boojum."  From The Hunting of the Snark by Lewis Carroll and illustrated Henry Holiday, 1876.

We're pleased that our Magic Words: A Dictionary is referenced in Ancient Origins' post about the origins of "abracadabra."

Oh!  From Jungle Night by William Beebe, 1918.

Not a strange unit of measure, the "Ounce" is, of course, another name for a snow leopard.  From Tales About Animals by Peter Parley, 1870.

What words make you want to die?  Here's one, in an entry from The Dictionary of Ugly Words, a book attributed to us.

We're often asked, "is it teepee or tepee?"  You'll see tepee everywhere, but "popularity is only of temporary moment ... a vulgar struggling for supremacy" (Chamber's Edinburgh Journal, 1849).  Indeed, California's Wigwam Motel (on both the historic registry and alongside the ghostly vestiges of Route 66) spells it teepee.  That's surely definitive.  For further proof, we offer our own graphical evidence (heehee).

One Punchinello, two or more Puns-chinello.  From Le Journal Amusant, 1903.

A design idea for greeting cards: crisscrossing four quotations with a key word at the center.  From The Gospel Woman, 1881

Here's a trick for spelling Constantinople:

It's a C and an I and a constanti, and a steeple and a stople and a constantinople.

—Rupert Hughes, Gift Wife, 1910

These are text scanning errors: in each case, the word apocrypha appeared as a page or column heading but got attached to first words on the page or the final words of the previous page, creating a new sentence that exists only in the context of a Google search result.

 In the Mota language of the Vanuatu archipelago, a tamate-tiqa is a "ghost-shooter," a tube of bamboo stuffed with magic and shot off against the person whom it is desired to injure.  From A Dictionary of the Language of Mota, Sugarloaf Island, Banks' Islands by Codrington and Palmer, 1896