The Ship Of Heaven Guides Itself And

Go Out Of The House To See The Moon, And't Is Mere Tinsel; It Will Not Please As When Its Light Shines Upon Your Necessary Journey.

Power And Speed Be Hands And Feet.

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.

It Is Very Odd That Nature Should Be So Unscrupulous. She Is No Saint . . .

The Only Money Of God Is God. He Pays Never With Any Thing Less, Or Any Thing Else.