Our life is two fold Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality.
Intellectual ''work'' is misnamed; it is a pleasure, a dissipation, and is its own highest reward.
There is no such thing as accident; it is fate misnamed.
I do not want to be tolerated, or misnamed. I want to be recognized.