Over all the sky - the sky! Far, far out of reach, studded with eternal stars.

Happiness, not in another place but this place...not for another hour, but this hour.

How beggarly appear arguments before a defiant deed!

I say that democracy can never prove itself beyond cavil, until it founds and luxuriantly grows its own forms of art, poems, schools, theology, displacing all that exists, or that has been produced anywhere in the past, under opposite influences.

What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics, of hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains?

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."

What beauty there is in words; what a lurking curious charm in the sound some words.