The merely political aspect of the land is never very cheering; men are degraded when considered as the members of a political organization.

If you are a seer, whenever you meet a man you will see all that he owns, ay, and much that he pretends to disown, behind him.

The youth gets together his materials to build a bridge to the moon, or, perchance, a palace or temple on the earth, and, at length, the middle-aged man concludes to build a woodshed with them.

Men have become the tools of their tools.

It is strange to talk of miracles, revelations, inspiration, and the like, as things past, while love remains.

As yesterday and the historical ages are past, as the work of today is present, so some flitting perspectives and demi-experiencesof the life that is in nature are in time veritably future, or rather outside of time, perennial, young, divine, in the wind and rain which never die.

I have made a short excursion into the new world which the Indian dwells in, or is. He begins where we leave off.