Strange, (is it not?) that battles, martyrs, blood, even assassination should so condense - perhaps only really lastingly condense - a Nationality.

And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud.

The earth does not argue, Is not pathetic, has no arrangements, Does not scream, haste, persuade, threaten, promise, Makes no discriminations, has no conceivable failures, Closes nothing, refuses nothing, shuts none out.

I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.

This is the city, and I am one of the citizens/Whatever interests the rest interests me

And I will show of male and female that either is but the equal of the other.

Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?