Where Thou Art, That Is Home.

The Soul Selects Her Own Society, Then Shuts The Door; On Her Divine Majority Obtrude No More.

No Ladder Needs The Bird But Skies To Situate Its Wings, Nor Any Leaders Grim Baton Arraigns It As It Sings.

The Life We Have Is Very Great. The Life That We Shall See Surpasses It, We Know, Because It Is Infinity, But When All Space Has Been Beheld And All Dominion Shown The Smallest Human Heart's Extent Reduces It To None.

Life Is So Rotatory That The Wilderness Falls To Each, Sometime.

One Need Not Be A Chamber To Be Haunted.