We can outrun the wind and the storm, but we cannot outrun the demon of hurry.

IT is reported of Margaret Fuller that she said she accepted the universe. "Gad, she'd better!" retorted Carlyle. Carlyle himself did not accept the universe in a very whole-hearted manner. Looking up at the midnight stars, he exclaimed: "A sad spectacle! If they be inhabited, what a scope for misery and folly; if they be not inhabited, what a waste of space!"

The overall quantity of nuclear weapons in the world continues to decline slowly.

The sunbeams are welcome now. They seem like pure electricity—like friendly and recuperating lightning. Are we led to think electricity abounds only in summer, when we see in the storm-clouds as it were, the veins and ore-beds of it? I imagine it is equally abundant in winter, and more equable and better tempered. Who ever breasted a snowstorm without being excited and exhilarated, as if this meteor had come charged with latent auroræ of the North, as doubtless it has? It is like being pelted with sparks from a battery.

I seldom go into a natural history museum without feeling as if I were attending a funeral.

How much there is in books that one does not want to know, that it would be a mere weariness and burden to the spirit to know.

I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.