The Crime, from us, is hidden, [though] he is presumed to know.

Tell all the Truth, but tell it slant/Success in Circuit lies.

I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine.

Love can do all but raise the Dead I doubt if even that From such a giant were withheld Were flesh equivalent But love is tired and must sleep, And hungry and must graze And so abets the shining Fleet Till it is out of gaze.

Till it has loved, no man or woman can become itself.

But a Book is only the Heart's Portrait- every Page a Pulse.

Noon - is the Hinge of Day-.