I wonder if leaves feel lonely when they see their neighbors falling?

Walk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer.

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.

It is always interesting to see people in dead earnest, from whatever cause, and earthquakes make everybody earnest.

When I first caught sight of (Mount Shasta) over the braided folds of the Sacramento Valley I was fifty miles away and afoot, alone and weary. Yet all my blood turned to wine, and I have not been weary since.

I am very blessed. The Valley is full of people, but they do not annoy me. I revolve in pathless places and in higher rocks than the world and his ribbony wife can reach.

The power of imagination makes us infinite.