We are still in Eden; the wall that shuts us out is our own ignorance and folly.

Nothing is invented and brought to perfection all at once.

If I live to be old enough, I may sit down under some bush, the last left in the utilitarian world, and feel thankful that intellect in its march has spared one vestige of the ancient forest for me to die by.

We are still in Eden; the wall that shuts us out is our own ignorance and folly.

None know how often the hand of God is seen in a wilderness but them that rove it for a man's life.

To walk with nature as a poet is the necessary condition of a perfect artist.

How I have walked... day after day, and all alone, to see if there was not something among the old things which was new!