Oh, I have walked in Kansas Through many a harvest field, And piled the sheaves of glory there And down the wild rows reeled: Each sheaf a little yellow sun, A heap of hot-rayed gold; Each binder like Creation's hand To mold suns, as of old.

This is the sin against the Holy Ghost: - To speak of bloody power as right divine, And call on God to guard each vile chief's house, And for such chiefs, turn men to wolves and swine.

You can't crush ideas by suppressing them. You can only crush them by ignoring them.

Never be a cynic, even a gentle one. Never help out a sneer, even at the devil.

Authors and uncaptured criminals are the only people free from routine.

The only thing that a man may do that is new, is to write himself on human hearts.

They tried to get me - I got them first! [Suicide.]