Everyone Asks For Freedom For Himself, The

I Think I Know Enough Of Hate To Say That For Destruction Ice Is Also Great And Would Suffice.

The World Is Full Of Willing People; Some Willing To Work, The Rest Willing To Let Them.

Tree At My Window, Window Tree, My Sash Is Lowered When Night Comes On; But Let There Never Be Curtain Drawn Between You And Me.

That Day She Put Our Heads Together, Fate Had Her Imagination About Her, Your Head So Much Concerned With Outer, Mine With Inner, Weather.

Nor Is There Wanting In The Press Some Spirit To Stand Simply Forth, Heroic In It Nakedness, Against The Uttermost Of Earth. The Tale Of Earth's Unhonored Things Sounds Nobler There Than 'neath The Sun; And The Mind Whirls And The Heart Sings, And A Shout Greets The Daring One.