I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign'd by God's name.

There is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheeled universe.

I tramp a perpetual journey.

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.

Camden was originally an accident, but I shall never be sorry I was left over in Camden. It has brought me blessed returns.

I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough, To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough, To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough, To pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment—what is this, then? I do not ask any more delight—I swim in it, as in a sea.

Oh captain my captain