The rudiment of verse may, possibly, be found in the spondee.

All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.

Thank Heaven! The crisis /The danger is past, and the lingering illness, is over at last /, and the fever called ''Living'' is conquered at last.

The object, Truth, or the satisfaction of the intellect, and the object, Passion, or the excitement of the heart, are, although attainable, to a certain extent, in poetry, far more readily attainable in prose.

The rain came down upon my head - Unshelter'd. And the wind rendered me mad and deaf and blind.

If any ambitious man have a fancy to revolutionize, at one effort, the universal world of human thought, human opinion, and human sentiment, the opportunity is his own -- the road to immortal renown lies straight, open, and unencumbered before him. All that he has to do is to write and publish a very little book. Its title should be simple -- a few plain words -- My Heart Laid Bare. But -- this little book must be true to its title.

...If you do not take it up with you in some way, I shall be under the necessity of breaking your head with this shovel