For always roaming with a hungry heart.

Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand the downward slope to death.

Mastering the lawless science of our law,- that codeless myriad of precedent, that wilderness of single instances.

Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills. Like footsteps upon wool.

O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell.

As love, if love be perfect, casts out fear, so hate, if hate be perfect, casts out fear.

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.