Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged. Missing me one place, search another. I stop somewhere waiting for you.

I celebrate myself, and sing myself.

Simplicity is the glory of expression.

It is a beautiful truth that all men contain something of the artist in them. And perhaps it is the case that the greatest artists live and die, the world and themselves alike ignorant what they possess.

Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you?

The city sleeps and the country sleeps, the living sleep for their time, the dead sleep for their time, the old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband sleeps by his wife; and these tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them, and such as it is to be of these more or less I am, and of these one and all I weave the song of myself.

Sail Forth- Steer for the deep waters only. Reckless O soul, exploring. I with thee and thou with me. For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared go. And we will risk the ship, ourselves, and all.