Laws aren't ghosts in this country, they walk around with the smell of earth on them.
In a country this large and a language even larger ... there ought to be a living for somebody who cares and wants to entertain and instruct a reader.
But for a few phrases from his letters and an odd line or two of his verse, the poet walks gagged through his own biography.
Sun and moon, sun and moon, time goes.
Celebrity is a mask that eats into the face.
I moved to New England partly because it has a real literary past. The ghosts of Hawthorne and Melville still sit on those green hills. The worship of Mammon is also somewhat lessened there by the spirit of irony. I don't get hay fever in New England either.