The words of my book nothing, the drift of it everything.

In this broad earth of ours, Amid the measureless grossness and the slag, Enclosed and safe within its central heart, Nestles the seed of perfection.

The great city is that which has the greatest man or woman: if it be a few ragged huts, it is still the greatest city in the whole world.

When one reaches out to help another he touches the face of God.

All the past we leave behind; We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world, Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march, Pioneers! O Pioneers!

I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done, / The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won