When I would re-create myself, I seek the darkest wood, the thickest and most interminable and to the citizen, most dismal, swamp. I enter as a sacred place, a Sanctum sanctorum. There is the strength, the marrow, of Nature. — Henry David Thoreau, from “Walking,” 1851, The Essays of Henry D. Thoreau (North Point Press,… Continue reading Henry David Thoreau
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars. — Walt Whitman, from “Song of Myself,” Leaves of Grass. Originally published: July 4, 1855.
Give All to Love Give all to love;Obey thy heart;Friends, kindred, days,Estate, good-fame,Plans, credit and the Muse,—Nothing refuse. ’T is a brave master;Let it have scope:Follow it utterly,Hope beyond hope:High and more highIt dives into noon,With wing unspent,Untold intent:But it is a god,Knows its own pathAnd the outlets of the sky. It was never for… Continue reading Ralph Waldo Emerson
Yet all men are capable of being raised by piety or by passion, into their region. And no man touches these divine natures, without becoming, in some degree, himself divine. Like a new soul, they renew the body. We become physically nimble and lightsome; we tread on air; life is no longer irksome, and we… Continue reading Ralph Waldo Emerson
Our life is an apprenticeship to the truth, that around every circle another can be drawn; that there is no end in nature, but every end is a beginning; that there is always another dawn risen on mid-noon, and under every deep a lower deep opens. — Ralph Waldo Emerson, from “Circles,” Essays: First Series.… Continue reading Ralph Waldo Emerson
A lady, with whom I was riding in the forest, said to me, that the woods always seemed to her to wait, as if the genii who inhabit them suspended their deeds until the wayfarer has passed onward: a thought which poetry has celebrated in the dance of the fairies, which breaks off on the… Continue reading Ralph Waldo Emerson
We fly to beauty as an asylum from the terrors of finite nature. — Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Complete Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson: The conduct of life. (Ams Pr Inc June 2004) Originally published 1841.
I cannot live with You (640) I cannot live with You –It would be Life –And Life is over there –Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to –Putting upOur Life – His Porcelain –Like a Cup – Discarded of the Housewife –Quaint – or Broke –A newer Sevres pleases –Old Ones crack –… Continue reading Emily Dickinson
These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are; they exist with God today. There is no time for them. There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. But man postpones or remembers; he does not live… Continue reading Ralph Waldo Emerson
Pain — has an Element of Blank —It cannot recollectWhen it begun — or if there wereA time when it was not — It has no Future — but itself —Its Infinite realms containIts Past — enlightened to perceiveNew Periods — of Pain. —Emily Dickinson, “Pain — has an Element of Blank —,” , The… Continue reading Emily Dickinson