I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least.

Pointing to another world will never stop vice among us; shedding light over this world can alone help us.

From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines.

And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.

Joy, shipmate, joy! (Pleased to my soul at death I cry), Our life is closed, our life begins, The long, long anchorage we leave, The ship is clear at last, she leaps! She swiftly courses from the shore, Joy, shipmate, joy!

Each of us inevitable; Each of us limitless-each of us with his or her right upon the earth.

The strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung.