The eager and often inconsiderate appeals of reformers and revolutionists are indispensable to counterbalance the inertia and fossilism marking so large a part of human institutions.

Where the earth is, we are.

I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contained, I stand and look at them long and long.

I sing the body that is electric! I celebrate the Self yet to be unveiled!

Come lovely and soothing death, Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving, In the day, in the night, to all, to each, Sooner or later, delicate death.

The truest and greatest Poetry, (while subtly and necessarily always rhythmic, and distinguishable easily enough) can never again, in the English language, be express'd in arbitrary and rhyming metre, any more than the greatest eloquence, or the truest power and passion.

To die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.