Blessed are they who never read a newspaper, for they shall see Nature, and through her, God.

We love to see any redness in the vegetation of the temperate zone. It is the color of colors. This plant speaks to our blood....What a perfect maturity it arrives at! It is the emblem of a successful life concluded by a death not premature, which is an ornament to Nature. What if we were to mature as perfectly, root and branch, glowing in the midst of our decay, like the poke!

Cold and hunger seem more friendly to my nature than those methods which men have adopted and advise to ward them off.

We need the tonic of wildness.

Can we not do without the society of our gossip a little while, - have our own thoughts to cheer us?

In civilization, as in a southern latitude, man degenerates at length, and yields to the incursion of more northern tribes.

The child should have the advantage of ignorance as well as of knowledge, and is fortunate if he gets his share of neglect and exposure.