O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done, / The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won

Now, Voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find."

Do you guess I have some intricate purpose? Well I have, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has.

O magnet-South! O glistening perfumed South! My South! O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse and love! Good and evil! O all dear to me!

There will soon be no more priests... They may wait awhile, perhaps a generation or two, dropping off by degrees. A superior breed shall take their place. A new order shall arise and they shall be the priests of man, and every man shall be his own priest.

The dirtiest book of all is the expurgated book.

I am satisfied ... I see, dance, laugh, sing.