But Words Are Things, And A Small

There Is, In Fact, No Law Or Government At All; And It Is Wonderful How Well Things Go On Without Them.

I Have A Passion For The Name Of "mary," For Once It Was A Magic Sound To Me, And Still It Half Calls Up The Realms Of Fairy, Where I Beheld What Never Was To Be.

This Sort Of Adoration Of The Real Is But A Heightening Of The Beau Ideal.

Sleep Hath Its Own World, And The Wide Realm Of Wild Reality.

I Should, Many A Good Day, Have Blown My Brains Out, But For The Recollection That It Would Have Given Pleasure To My Mother-in-law.