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.

...every sight and sound inspiring, leading one far out of himself, yet feeding and building up his individuality.

Hidden in the glorious wildness like unmined gold.

Earth has no sorrow that earth can not heal.

A little pure wildness is the one great present want, both of men and sheep.

There is a love of wild nature in everybody, an ancient mother-love showing itself whether recognized or no, and however covered by cares and duties

I will follow my instincts, be myself for good or ill, and see what will be the upshot.