How little appreciation of the beauty of the landscape there is among us!—"Walking"
How much of beauty—of color, as well as form—on which our eyes daily rest goes unperceived by us!—Journal, 1 August 1860
How much virtue there is in simply seeing!—Journal, 10 April 1840
How silent are the footsteps of Spring!—Journal, 30 March 1856
How swiftly the earth appears to revolve at sunset which at midday appears to rest on its axle.—Journal, 21 December 1851
I also heard the sound of bullfrogs from a swamp on the opposite side, thinking at first that they were a moose; a duck paddled swiftly by;  and sitting in that dusky wilderness, under that dark mountain, by the bright river which was full of reflected light, still I heard the wood thrush sing, as if no higher civilization could be attained.—The Maine Woods
I am glad to hear that any words of mine, though spoken so long ago that I can hardly claim identity with their author, have reached you. It gives me pleasure, because I have therefore reason to suppose that I have uttered what concerns men, and that it is not in vain that man speaks to man. This is the value of literature.—Thoreau to H.G.O. Blake, 27 March 1848
I am more interested in the rosy cheek than I am to know what particular diet the maiden is fed on.—"Autumnal Tints"
I am reminded of spring by the quality of the air . . . It is a natural resurrection, an experience of immortality.—Journal, 24 February 1852
I am soothed by the rain-drops on the door-sill; every globule that pitches thus confidently from the eaves to the ground is my life insurance.—Journal, 14 November 1839
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