The Poet Knows That He

We Fill The Hands And Nurseries Of Our Children With All Manner Of Dolls, Drums And Horses, Withdrawing Their Eyes From The Plain Face And... Nature, The Sun And Moon, The Animals, The Water And Stones, Which Should Be Their Toys.

A Friend, Therefore, Is A Sort Of Paradox In Nature. I Who Alone Am, I Who See Nothing In Nature Whose Existence I Can Affirm With Equal Evidence To My Own, Behold Now The Semblance Of My Being, In All Its Height, Variety, And Curiosity, Reiterated In A Foreign Form; So That A Friend May Well Be Reckoned The Masterpiece Of Nature.

Good Writing Is A Kind Of Skating Which Carries Off The Performer Where He Would Not Go, And Is Only Right Admirable When To All Its Beauty And Speed A Subserviency To The Will, Like That Of Walking, Is Added.

Duty Grows Everywhere--like Children, Like Grass.

If I Am The Devil's Child, I Will Live Then, By The Devil.