I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.

Just a turn of the doorknob, and there lies freedom.

Existence has overpowered Books. Today I slew a Mushroom.

We both believe, and disbelieve a hundred times an hour, which keeps believing nimble.

To lose what we have never owned might seem an eccentric bereavement, but Presumption has its own affliction as well as claim.

MY river runs to thee: Blue sea, wilt welcome me? My river waits reply. Oh sea, look graciously! I ’ll fetch thee brooks From spotted nooks,— Say, sea, Take me!

Opinion is a fitting thing but truth outlasts the sun - if then we cannot own them both, possess the oldest one.