I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen, And accrue what I hear into myself...and let sound contribute toward me.

What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

Now I see the secret of making the best person: it is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.

We arrange our lives-even the best and boldest men and women that exist, just as much as the most limited-with reference to what society conventionally rules and makes right.

Day full-blown and splendid-day of the immense sun, action, ambition, laughter, The Night follows close with millions of suns, and sleep and restoring darkness.

The habit of giving only enhances the desire to give.

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