The Poetry Of The Earth Is Never

If I Should Die, I Have Left No Immortal Work Behind Me — Nothing To Make My Friends Proud Of My Memory — But I Have Loved The Principle Of Beauty In All Things, And If I Had Had Time I Would Have Made Myself Remembered.

Dancing Music, Music Sad, Both Together, Sane And Mad.

Are There Not Thousands In The World Who Love Their Fellows Even To The Death, Who Feel The Giant Agony Of The World, And More, Like Slaves To Poor Humanity, Labor For Mortal Good?

I Have Nothing To Speak Of But My Self-and What Can I Say But What I Feel.

Scenery Is Fine - But Human Nature Is Finer.