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.

The future is no more uncertain than the present.

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

Resist much, obey little.

O lands! O all so dear to me - what you are, I become part of that, whatever it is.

I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.