I live in the angle of a leaden wall, into whose composition was poured a little alloy of bell-metal. Often, in the repose of my mid-day, there reaches my ears a confused tintinnabulum from without. It is the noise of my contemporaries.

It is only when we forget all our learning that we begin to know.

He who walks alone, waits for no-one.

In my walks, I would fain return to my senses. What business have I in the woods if I am thinking of something out of the woods?

To regret deeply is to live afresh.

I should have liked to come across a large community of pines, which had never been invaded by the lumbering army.

I have never met with a friend who furnished me sea-room. I have only tacked a few times and come to anchor - not sailed - made no voyage, carried no venture.