Here the frailest leaves of me and yet my strongest lasting, Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems

Behold I do not give lectures or a little charity, When I give I give myself.

Here is not merely a nation but a teeming nation of nations.

Agonies are one of my changes of garments.

I see that I am to wait for what will be exhibited by death.

All truths wait in all things,/They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun.... there are millions of suns left, You shall no longer take things at second or third hand.... nor look through the eyes of the dead.... nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from yourself.