Give me such shows - give me the streets of Manhattan!

O the joy of the strong-brawn'd fighter, towering in the arena in perfect condition, conscious of power, thirsting to meet his opponent.

You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all that is here, I believe much unseen is also here

There was a child went forth everyday, And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder or pity or dread, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day... or for many years or stretching cycles of years.

Only themselves understand themselves and the like of themselves, As souls only understand souls.

Books are to be called for and supplied on the assumption that the process of reading is not a half-sleep, but in the highest sense an exercise, a gymnastic struggle; that the reader is to do something for himself.

A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.