We are sometimes made aware of a kindness long passed, and realize that there have been times when our friends' thoughts of us were of so pure and lofty a character that they passed over us like the winds of heaven unnoticed; when they treated us not as what we were, but as what we aspired to be.

Every child begins the world again, to some extent, and loves to stay outdoors, even in wet and cold. It plays house, as well as horse, having an instinct for it...At last we know not what it is to live in the open air, and our lives are domestic in more senses than we think.

Every walk is a sort of crusade, preached by some Peter the Hermit in us.

One can hardly imagine a more healthful employment, or one more favorable to contemplation and the observation of nature.

Trees indeed have hearts.

As for style of writing, if one has anything to say, it drops from him simply and directly, as a stone falls to the ground.

Even the facts of science may dust the mind by their dryness, unless they are ... rendered fertile by the dews of fresh and living truth. Knowledge does not come to us by details, but in flashes of light from heaven.