I open my scuttle at night and see the far-sprinkled systems, All all I see multiplied as high as I can cipher edge but the rim of the farther systems. Wider and wider they spread, expanding, always expanding, Outward and outward and forever outward.

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done.

The fruition of beauty is no chance of hit or miss... it is inevitable as life.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean

Forsake all inhibitions, Pursue thy dreams.

I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man, And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of a man.

Surely whoever speaks to me in the right voice, him or her shall I follow.