Most people are on the world, not in it-- having no conscious sympathy or relationship to anything about them-- undiffused seporate, and rigidly alone like marbles of polished stone, touching but seporate.
God cannot save them from fools.
Going to the mountains is going home.
Walk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer.
Handle a book as a bee does a flower, extract its sweetness but do not damage it.
The gross heathenism of civilization has generally destroyed nature, and poetry, and all that is spiritual.