What Am I After All

A man is a great thing upon the earth and through eternity, but every jot of the greatness of man is unfolded out of woman; First the man is shaped in the woman, he can then be shaped in himself.

What am I after all but a child, pleas’d with the sound of my own name? repeating it over and over; I stand apart to hear⁠—it never tires me.

To you your name also; Did you think there was nothing but two or three pronunciations in the sound of your name?

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