I should have liked to come across a large community of pines, which had never been invaded by the lumbering army.

The highest condition of art is artlessness.

I have heard of many going astray even in the village streets, when the darkness was so thick you could cut it with a knife, as the saying is...

I want nothing new, if I can have but a tithe of the old secured to me. I will spurn all wealth beside. Think of the consummate folly of attempting to go away from here! When the constant endeavor should be to get nearer and nearer here!

Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life? We are determined to be starved before we are hungry.

Why should we be startled by death? Life is a constant putting off of the mortal coil - coat, cuticle, flesh and bones, all old clothes.

When my legs begin to move, the thoughts begin to flow.