The Crooning Turns To A Sunrise Singing.

Change The Fabric Of Your Own Soul And Your Own Visions, And You Change All.

Oh, I Have Walked In Kansas Through Many A Harvest Field, And Piled The Sheaves Of Glory There And Down The Wild Rows Reeled: Each Sheaf A Little Yellow Sun, A Heap Of Hot-rayed Gold; Each Binder Like Creation's Hand To Mold Suns, As Of Old.

They Tried To Get Me - I Got Them First! [suicide.]

The Only Thing That A Man May Do That Is New, Is To Write Himself On Human Hearts.

This Is The Sin Against The Holy Ghost: - To Speak Of Bloody Power As Right Divine, And Call On God To Guard Each Vile Chief's House, And For Such Chiefs, Turn Men To Wolves And Swine.