Every hero becomes a bore at last.

A man cannot speak but he judges himself

Great men do not content us. It is their solitude, not their force, that makes them conspicuous.

I am present at the sowing of the seed of the world. With a geometry of sunbeams, the soul lays the foundations of nature.

The charm of fine manners is music and sculpture and picture to many who do not pretend to appreciation of these arts.

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.

...in the wilderness, I find something more dear and connate than in the streets or villages...in the woods we return to reason and faith.