I exist as I am, that is enough, If no other in the world be aware, I sit content, And if each and all be aware, I sit content.

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

The smallest sprout shows there is really no death. And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it.

I see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, "Do not weep for me, This is not my true country, I have lived banished from my true country - I now go back there, I return to the celestial sphere where every one goes in his turn."

Every moment of light and dark is a miracle.

To have great poets, there must be great audiences.

Future years will never know the seething hell and the black infernal background, the countless minor scenes and interiors of the secession war; and it is best they should not. The real war will never get in the books.