"Of the terrible doubt of appearances, Of the uncertainty after all, that we may-be deluded, That may-be reliance and hope are but speculations after all, That may-be identity beyond the grave is a beautiful fable only. May-be the things I perceive, the animals, plants, men, hills, shining and flowing waters, The skies of day and night, colors, densities, forms, may-be these are (as doubtless they are) only apparitions, and the real something has yet to be known."