Nothing more do I ask than to share with you the ecstasy and sacrament of my life.

To multiply the harbors does not reduce the sea.

That no Flake of [snow] fall on you or them - is a wish that would be a Prayer, were Emily not a Pagan.

Wonder is not precisely knowing.

The Things that never can come back, are several - Childhood - some forms of Hope - the Dead.

Some Arrows slay but whom they strike - But this slew all but him - Who so appareled his Escape - Too trackless for a Tomb

I started early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me