'Tis the white stag, Fame, we're a-hunting, bid the world's hounds come to horn!

I have always thought the suicide should bump off at least one swine before taking off for parts unknown.

The primary pigment of poetry is the IMAGE.

Presentation, not reference.

America, my country, is almost a continent and hardly yet a nation.

The man of understanding can no more sit quiet and resigned while his country lets its literature decay, and lets good writing meet with contempt, than a good doctor could sit quiet and contented while some ignorant child was infecting itself with tuberculosis under the impression that it was merely eating jam tarts.

This is no book. Whoever touches this touches a man.