Poetry is the mysticism of mankind.

In Homer and Chaucer there is more of the innocence and serenity of youth than in the more modern and moral poets. The Iliad is not Sabbath but morning reading, and men cling to this old song, because they still have moments of unbaptized and uncommitted life, which give them an appetite for more.

Things do not change; we change.

Events, circumstances, etc., have their origin in ourselves. They spring from seeds which we have sown.

East of my bean-field, across the road, lived Cato Ingraham, slave of Duncan Ingraham, Esquire, gentleman, of Concord village, whobuilt his slave a house, and gave him permission to live in Walden Woods;MCato, not Uticensis, but Concordiensis. Some say that he was a Guinea Negro. There are a few who remember his little patch among the walnuts, which he let grow up till he should be old and need them; but a younger and whiter speculator got them at last. He too, however, occupies an equally narrow house at present.

A journal, is a book that shall contain a record of all your joy, your ecstasy, what you are grateful for.

You only need sit still long enough in some attractive spot in the woods that all its inhabitants may exhibit themselves to you by turns.