“A counter tenor is anyone who can count to ten.”

Source: The Door Into Summer (1957), Chapter 8

On hearing that his prizefighter, Stanley Ketchel, was dying of gunshot wounds.
Quoted by Stuart B. McIver, Dreamers, Schemers and Scalawags, Pineapple Press, Sarasota, Florida, 1994. ISBN 1-56164-034-4.
On Death and Dying

From William Bruce Cameron's Informal Sociology: A Casual Introduction to Sociological Thinking (1963), p. 13. The comment is part of a longer paragraph and does not appear in quotations in Cameron's book, and other sources http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=%22not%20everything%20that%20can%20be%20counted%20counts%22%20cameron&um=1&ie=UTF-8&tbo=u&tbs=bks:1&source=og&sa=N&tab=wp such as The Student's Companion to Sociology (p. 92) http://books.google.com/books?id=KMsB1GE8dBEC&lpg=PA92&dq=%22Not%20everything%20that%20can%20be%20counted%20counts%22&pg=PA92#v=onepage&q=%22Not%20everything%20that%20can%20be%20counted%20counts%22&f=false attribute the quote to Cameron. A number of recent books http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&tbo=p&tbs=bks:1&q=%22not+everything+that+can+be+counted%22+einstein+princeton&start=0&sa=N claim that Einstein had a sign with these words in his office in Princeton, but until a reliable historical source can be found to support this, skepticism is warranted. The earliest source on Google Books that mentions the quote in association with Einstein and Princeton is Charles A. Garfield's 1986 book Peak Performers: The New Heroes of American Business, in which he wrote on p. 156:
: Albert Einstein liked to underscore the micro/macro partnership with a remark from Sir George Pickering that he chalked on the blackboard in his office at the Institute for Advanced Studies at Princeton: "Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts."
Misattributed

Original: Nella vita ciò che conta è su chi puoi contare.
Source: prevale.net

Source: The House at Pooh Corner (1928), Chapter Five - Rabbit, speaking of Christopher Robin.

Letter to his parents from Paris (5 December 1919).
Context: Dad, you hit the wrong target when you write that you wish I were at Princeton living "in the even tenor of my way." I hate that expression and as far as I am able I intend to avoid that condition. When impulse and spontaneity fail to make my "way" as uneven as possible then I shall sit up nights inventing means of making life as conglomerate and vivid as possible. Those who live in the even tenor of their way simply exist until death ends their monotonous tranquility. No, there's going to be no even tenor with me. The more uneven it is the happier I shall be. And when my time comes to die, I'll be able to die happy, for I will have done and seen and heard and experienced all the joy, pain, thrills—every emotion that any human ever had—and I'll be especially happy if I am spared a stupid, common death in bed. So, Dad, I'm afraid your wish will always come to naught, for my way is to be ever changing, but always swift, acute and leaping from peak to peak instead of following the rest of the herd, shackled in conventionalities, along the monotonous narrow path in the valley. The dead have reached perfection when it comes to even tenor!

Source: Snakehead

Kielich (2002)

Source: Wizard and Glass