Only that traveling is good which reveals to me the value of home and enables me to enjoy it better.—Journal, 11 March 1856
Our mother's faith has not grown with her experience. Her experience has been too much for her. The lesson of life was too hard for her to learn.—A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers
Our reflections had already acquired a historical remoteness from the scenes we had left, and we ourselves essayed to sing.—A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers
Pursue some path, however narrow and crooked, in which you can walk with love and reverence. Wherever a man separates from the multitude and goes his own way, there is a fork in the road, though the travelers along the highway see only a gap in the paling.—Journal, 18 October 1855
Roads are made for horses and men of business. I do not travel in them much comparatively, because I am not in a hurry to get to any tavern, or grocery, or livery stable, or depot to which they lead.—"Walking"
Senses that take cognizance of outward things merely are of no avail. It matters not where or how far you travel? the farther commonly the worse? but how much alive you are.—Journal, 6 May 1854
Silence is the communing of conscious soul with itself.—Journal, December 1838
Some do not walk at all; others walk in the highways; a few walk across lots. Roads are made for horses and men of business. I do not travel in them much, comparatively, because I am not in a hurry to get to any tavern or grocery or livery-stable or depot to which they lead.—"Walking"
The child may soon stand face to face with the best father.—Journal, 12 February 1841
The death of friends should inspire us as much as their lives. If they are great and rich enough, they will leave consolation to the mourners before the expenses of their funerals.—Journal, 19 February 1842
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