There are continents and seas in the moral world, to which every man is an isthmus or inlet, yet unexplored by him.

In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, like cottages under drifts.

As long as there is satire, the poet is, as it were, particeps criminis.

This world is but a canvas to our imagination.

Be not anxious to avoid poverty. In this way the wealth of the universe may be securely invested.

There were three classes of inhabitants who either frequent or inhabit the country which we had now entered: first, the loggers, who, for a part of the year, the winter and spring, are far the most numerous, but in the summer, except for a few explorers for timber, completely desert it; second, the few settlers I have named, the only permanent inhabitants, who live on the verge of it, and help raise supplies for the former; third, the hunters, mostly Indians, who range over it in their season.

It is good even to be a fisherman in summer and in winter.