In the woods, too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, is always a child. In the woods is perpetual youth. Within these plantations of God a decorum and sanctity reign, a perennial festival is dressed, and the guest sees not how he should tire of them in a thousand years. In the woods we return to reason and faith.

A vivid thought brings the power to paint it; and in proportion to the depth of its source is the force of its projection.

Inaction is cowardice, but there can be no scholar without the heroic mind.

In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts; they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty.

I wiped away the weeds and foam, I fetched my sea-borne treasures home.

Nature hates calculators.

Life is too short to waste.