Brilliant, overlooked, and eventually proven right — too late.

The most famous piano dedication in history was a last-minute substitution, named by a man who never met her, for a woman who was busy doing other things.

He rode a caiman like a horse, built the world's first nature reserve, and accidentally set in motion the theory of evolution.

He correctly described the structure of all matter in the universe. Plato tried to have his books burned. Plato won.

He translated the hieroglyphics on a famous Roman fountain. They are complete nonsense, chiseled in stone, and tourists photograph them every day.

He tripped on a stone in 1879 and spent the next thirty-three years building a palace out of the ones he found on the way home.

She had a coffin she liked to lie in before writing each morning, to focus her mind.

She arrived at the Royal Society in 1666, critiqued their methods to their faces, and they used her visit as justification to ban every woman who came after her — for 278 years.

When Satie died, his friends entered his apartment for the first time in twenty-seven years.

He discovered oxygen two years before the man history credits with discovering oxygen.

A century before the Civil War, a four-foot-seven cave-dweller in a military coat walked into a Quaker meeting and sprayed fake blood on every slaveholder in the room.

At fifty-five, she disguised herself as a beggar pilgrim and walked into the most forbidden city on earth.

He described hydrogen cyanide as having a 'pleasantly sharp acidulous flavor,' the way someone else might describe a good Riesling.