As soon as histories are properly told there is no more need of romances.
The words of my book nothing, the drift of it everything.
I inhale great draught of space...the east and west are mine...and the north and south are mine...I am grandeur than I thought...I did not know i held so much goodness.
Thunder on! Stride on! Democracy. Strike with vengeful stroke!
I am not contain'd between my hat and boots.
What do you suppose will satisfy the soul, except to walk free and own no superior?