Each reader discovers for himself that, with respect to the simpler features of nature, succeeding poets have done little else than copy his similes.

Summer passes into autumn in some unimaginable point of time, like the turning of a leaf.

In the long run, men hit only what they aim at. Therefore, they had better aim at something high.

Even in civilized communities, the embryo man passes through the hunter stage of development.

Things don't change. We change.

I cannot but regard it as a kindness in those who have the steering of me that, by the want of pecuniary wealth, I have been nailed dawn to this my native region so long and steadily, and made to study and love this spot of earth more and more. What would signify in comparison a thin and diffused love and knowledge of the whole earth instead, got by wandering? The traveler's is but a barren and comfortless condition. Wealth will not buy a man a home in nature-house nor farm there. The man of business does not by his business earn a residence in nature, but is denaturalized rather.

It is remarkable how easily and insensibly we fall into a particular route, and make a beaten track for ourselves.