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

I have no designs on society, or nature, or God. I am simply what I am, or I begin to be that. I live in the present. I only remember the past, and anticipate the future. I love to live.

I am grateful for what I have. My thanksgiving is perpetual.

When the true criminals are running around free, the only honorable place for a decent human being is in prisons.

He may travel who can subsist on the wild fruits and game of the most cultivated country.

The indescribable innocence and beneficence of Nature-of sun and wind and rain, of summer and winter-such health, such cheer, they afford forever! and such sympathy have they ever with our race, that all Nature would be affected, and the sun's brightness fade, and the winds would sigh humanely, and the clouds rain tears, and the woods shed their leaves and put on mourning in midsummer, if any man should ever for a just cause grieve.

A traveler who looks at things with an impartial eye may see what the oldest inhabitant has not observed.