A man thinks as well through his legs and arms as this brain.

You fail in your thoughts, or you prevail in your thoughts only.

The moose is singularly grotesque and awkward to look at. Why should it stand so high at the shoulders? Why have so long a head? Why have no tail to speak of?

In summer we live out of doors, and have only impulses and feelings, which are all for action, and must wait commonly for the stillness and longer nights of autumn and winter before any thought will subside; we are sensible that behind the rustling leaves, and the stacks of grain, and the bare clusters of the grape, there is the field of a wholly new life, which no man has lived; that even this earth was made for more mysterious and nobler inhabitants than men and women. In the hues of October sunsets, we see the portals to other mansions than those which we occupy.

The other side of the globe is but the home of our correspondent. Our voyaging is only great-circle sailing.

Every man must walk to the beat of his own drummer.

When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable.