And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to try to alarm me.

Are you the new person drawn toward me? To begin with, take warning, I am surely far different from what you suppose.

This hour I tell things in confidence/ I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you.

Great is the faith of the flush of knowledge and of the investigation of the depths of qualities and things.

The habit of giving only enhances the desire to give.

Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed.

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.