It Is Very Iniquitous To Make Me

I Came To Realize Clearly That The Mind Is No Other Than The Mountain And The Rivers And The Great Wide Earth, The Sun And The Moon And The Sky”.

Old Man! 'tis Not Difficult To Die.

With Flowing Tail And Flying Mane, Wide Nostrils Never Stretched By Pain, Mouth Bloodless To Bit Or Rein, And Feet That Iron Never Shod, And Flanks Unscar'd By Spur Or Rod, A Thousand Horses - The Wild - The Free - Like Waves That Follow O'er The Sea, Came Thickly Thundering On.

My Altars Are The Mountains And The Ocean.

The Thorns Which I Have Reap'd Are Of The Tree I Planted; They Have Torn Me, And I Bleed. I Should Have Known What Fruit Would Spring From Such A Seed.