At a certain season of our life we are accustomed to consider every spot as the possible site of a house.

To what end do I lead a simple life at all, pray? That I may teach others to simplify their lives? - and so all our lives be simplified merely, like an algebraic formula? Or not, rather, that I may make use of the ground I have cleared to live more worthily and profitably?

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

Truths and roses have thorns about them.

It is not worth the while to let our imperfections disturb us always.

Some do not walk at all; others walk in the highways; a few walk across lots.

The man I meet with is not often so instructive as the silence he breaks.