I am very little of a traveler.
Let us not play at kittly-benders. There is a solid bottom everywhere.
He who hears the rippling of rivers in these degenerate days will not utterly despair.
Wherever a man separates from the multitude, and goes his own way in this mood, there indeed is a fork in the road, though ordinary travelers may see only a gap in the paling. His solitary path across lots will turn out the higher way of the two.
All misfortune is but a stepping stone to fortune.
Who knows what the human body would expand and flow out to under a more genial heaven?