The Finest Poems Of The

A Man's Fortunes Are The Fruit Of His Character. A Man's Friends Are His Magnetisms.

[on Thoreau:] For Not A Particle Of Respect Had He To The Opinions Of Any Man Or Body Of Men, But Homage Solely To Truth Itself.

A Skilful Man Reads His Dreams For His Selfknowledge; Yet Not The Details, But The Quality.

Those Who Live To The Future Must Always Appear Selfish To Those Who Live To The Present.

I Wish To Write Such Rhymes As Shall Not Suggest A Restraint, But Contrariwise The Wildest Freedom.