Benjamin

“The name of Robert G. Ingersoll is in the pantheon of the world. More than any other man who ever lived he destroyed religious superstition. He was the Shakespeare of oratory -- the greatest that the world has ever known. Ingersoll lived and died far in advance of his time. He wrought nobly for the transformation of this world into a habitable globe; and long after the last echo of destruction has been silenced, his name will be loved and honored, and his fame will shine resplendent, for his immortality is fixed and glorious.

{Debbs had this much respect for Ingersoll, despite their radically different political views. This statement was made at Ingersoll's funeral}”
― Eugene Victor Debs

“He brushed away the thunder, then the clouds, then the colossal illusion of heaven. Yet still the sky was blue.”
― Wallace Stevens

“A sober black shawl hides her body entirely
Touched by the sun and the salt spray of the sea
But down in the darkness a slim hand so lovely
Carries a rich bunch of red roses for me

Her petticoat simple and her feet are but bare
And all that she has is but neat and scanty
But stars in the deep of her eyes are exclaiming
I carry a rich bunch of red roses for thee

No arrogant gem sits enthroned on her forehead
Or swings from a white ear for all men to see
But jewelled desire in a bosom so pearly
Carries a rich bunch of red roses for me”
― Seán O'Casey

“I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright.
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Has led me -who knows how?
To thy chamber-window, Sweet!

The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream -
The champak odours fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart,
As I must die on thine,
O beloved as thou art!

Oh lift me from the grass!
I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast;
Oh press it close to thine again,
Where it will break at last!”
― Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Complete Poems