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

If we respected only what is inevitable and has a right to be, music and poetry would resound along the streets.

Nature will bear the closest inspection. She invites us to lay our eye level with her smallest leaf, and take an insect view of its plain.

The sea-shore is a sort of neutral ground, a most advantageous point from which to contemplate this world. It is even a trivial place. The waves forever rolling to the land are too far-travelled and untamable to be familiar. Creeping along the endless beach amid the sun-squall and the foam, it occurs to us that we, too, are the product of sea-slime.

We are the subjects of an experiment which is not a little interesting to me.

For one that comes with a pencil to sketch or sing, a thousand come with an axe or rifle. What a coarse and imperfect use Indiansand hunters make of nature! No wonder that their race is so soon exterminated.

It is not worth the while to let our imperfections disturb us always.