What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics, of hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains?

What beauty there is in words; what a lurking curious charm in the sound some words.

O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.

I do not think seventy years is the time of a man or woman, Nor that seventy millions of years is the time of a man or woman, Nor that years will ever stop the existence of me, or any one else.

There's no doubt that I've deserved my enemies, but I don't think I've deserved my friends.

I tramp a perpetual journey.