It is usually the imagination that is wounded first, rather than the heart; it being much more sensitive.

There must be some nerve and heroism in our love, as of a winter morning.

I suppose you think that persons who are as old as your father and myself are always thinking about very grave things, but I know that we are meditating the same old themes that we did when we were ten years old, only we go more gravely about it.

Some do not walk at all; others walk in the highways; a few walk across lots. Roads are made for horses and men of business. I do not travel in them much, comparatively, because I am not in a hurry to get to any tavern or grocery or livery-stable or depot to which they lead.

You may tell by looking at any twig of the forest, ay, at your very wood-pile, whether its winter is past or not.

To the sick, indeed, nature is sick, but to the well, a fountain of health.

Nature and human life are as various as our several constitutions. Who shall say what prospect life offers to another?