O leave this barren spot to me! Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree.

The only thing that is fundamental (real) is consciousness itself; all else is virtual- i.e., a result of an exchange of information within consciousness.

Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame, The power of grace, the magic of a name.

Love! the surviving gift of Heaven, The choicest sweet of Paradise, In life's else bitter cup distilled.

The patriot's blood is the seed of Freedom's tree.

the soul of conversation is sympathy

Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing; Wed or cease to woo.