But to gain a perfect view, one must go yet further, over a curving brow to a slight shelf on the extreme brink.
Going to the woods is going home, for I suppose we came from the woods originally.
Yet how hard most people work for mere dust and ashes and care, taking no thought of growing in knowledge and grace, never having time to get in sight of their own ignorance.
I ran home in the moonlight with firm strides; for the sun-love made me strong.
When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.
Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings.