Knowledge Enormous Makes A God Of Me.

All Writing Is A Form Of Prayer.

Death Is Life's High Meed.

Can Death Be Sleep, When Life Is But A Dream, And Scenes Of Bliss Pass As A Phantom By? ---"on Death

There Is An Electric Fire In Human Nature Tending To Purify - So That Among These Human Creatures There Is Continually Some Birth Of New Heroism. The Pity Is That We Must Wonder At It, As We Should At Finding A Pearl In Rubbish.

I Think I Shall Be Among The English Poets After My Death.