Nature Herself Seems, I Say, To Take

But Often, In The World’s Most Crowded Streets, But Often, In The Din Of Strife, There Rises An Unspeakable Desire After The Knowledge Of Our Buried Life; A Thirst To Spend Our Fire And Restless Force In Tracking Out Our True, Original Course; A Longing To Inquire Into The Mystery Of This Heart Which Beats So Wild, So Deep In Us—to Know Whence Our Lives Come And Where They Go.

Nothing Could Moderate, In The Bosom Of The Great English Middle Class, Their Passionate, Absorbing, Almost Blood-thirsty Clinging To Life.

Come, Dear Children, Let Us Away; Down And Away Below!

Genius Is Mainly An Affair Of Energy, And Poetry Is Mainly An Affair Of Genius; Therefore A Nation Whose Spirit Is Characterized By Energy May Well Be Imminent In Poetry - And We Have Shakespeare.

Too Quick Despairer, Wherefore Wilt Thou Go? Soon Will The High Midsummer Pomps Come On, Soon Will The Musk Carnations Break And Swell.