All myths that are something more than fancies gain rather than lose in value with time, by reason of the accretions of human experience.

It is the fine excesses of life that make it worth living.

Perhaps we too seldom reflect how much the life of Nature is one with the life of man, how unimportant or indeed merely seeming, the difference between them.

On the contrary, woman is the best equipped fighting machine that ever went to battle.

Though actually the work of man's hands - or, more properly speaking, the work of his travelling feet, - roads have long since come to seem so much a part of Nature that we have grown to think of them as a feature of the landscape no less natural than rocks and trees.

You can't fake it. Bad writing is a gift.

We have, of course, long since ceased to think of Nature as the sympathetic mirror of our moods, or to imagine that she has any concern with the temporal affairs of man.