Assuredly it would be a pity if laughter should ever become, like rhetoric and the arts, a habit.

The traveling heart went free / With endless streams; that strife was stopped; / And down a thousand vales I dropped, / I flowed to Italy.

Let us turn to our own childhoods-no further-if we will renew our sense of remoteness, and of the mystery of change.

Childhood is but change made gay and visible.

the feet should have more of the acquaintance of earth, and know more of flowers, freshness, cool brooks, wild thyme, and salt sand than does anything else about us. ... It is only the entirely unshod that have lively feet.

Our fathers valued change for the sake of its results; we value it in the act.

Solitude is separate experience.