To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle. Every cubic inch of space is a miracle.

My spirit has pass'd in compassion and determination around the whole earth. I have look'd for equals and lovers an found them ready for me in all lands, I think some divine rapport has equalized me with them

To die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?

Wisdom is not finally tested in schools, Wisdom cannot be pass'd from one having it to another not having it, Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof, Applies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content, Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the excellence of things; Something there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes it out of the soul.

Man is about the same, in the main, whether with despotism, or whether with freedom.

Every moment of light and dark is a miracle.