Poetry Being ... When We Look From

There Is No Strong Performance Without A Little Fanaticism In The Performer.

Every Man Is Grave Alone.

Broader And Deeper We Must Write Our Annals, From An Ethical Reformation, From An Influx Of The Ever New, Ever Sanative Conscience, If We Would Trulier Express Our Central And Wide-related Nature, Instead Of This Old Chronology Of Selfishness And Pride To Which We Have Too Long Lent Our Eyes. Already That Day Exists For Us, Shines In On Us At Unawares, But The Path Of Science And Of Letters Is Not The Way Into Nature. The Idiot, The Indian, The Child, And Unschooled Farmer's Boy, Stand Nearer To The Light By Which Nature Is To Be Read, Than The Dissector Or The Antiquary.

Every Revolution Was First A Thought In One Man's Mind.

Wherever A Man Comes, There Comes Revolution. The Old Is For Slaves.