707 The Grace—Myself—might not obtain… Confer upon My flower— Refracted but a Countenance— For I—inhabit Her—

A Counterfeit– a Plated Person… I would not be - Whatever strata of Iniquity My Nature underlie - Truth is good Health - and Safet…

838 Impossibility, like Wine Exhilarates the Man Who tastes it; Possibility Is flavorless—Combine

870 Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece”

467 We do not play on Graves— Because there isn’t Room— Besides—it isn’t even—it slants And People come—

443 I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl— Life’s little duties do—precisely— As the very least Were infinite—to me—

Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion

809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die

558 But little Carmine hath her face— Of Emerald scant—her Gown— Her Beauty—is the love she doth— Itself—exhibit—Mine&md ash;

521 Endow the Living—with the Tears— You squander on the Dead, And They were Men and Women—now, Around Your Fireside—

390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?

417 Is it dead—Find it— Out of sound—Out of sight— “Happy”? Which is wiser— You, or the Wind?