Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 10, 2025
I noticed for the first time that his eyes were slate blue, with funny birds' foot wrinkles at the corners. "That's so," he said. "I never thought of that. A fine prose style certainly presupposes sound nourishment. Excellent point that... And yet Thoreau did his own cooking. A sort of Boy Scout I guess, with a badge as kitchen master. Perhaps he took Beechnut bacon with him into the woods.
"She will soon be a woman." "A woman!" shouted Jean, who, not having his caribou whip, jumped up and down to emphasize his words. "She will soon be a woman, did you say, Jan Thoreau? And if she is not a woman at thirty, with two children God send others like them! when will she be, I ask you?" "I meant Melisse," laughed Jan. "And I meant Iowaka," said Jean.
You must be born into the family of the Walkers." "I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least, it is commonly more than that, sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements." Thoreau made good his boast. He was a new kind of walker, a Holy-Lander.
His face bore a striking resemblance to Raphael's portrait of the war-like Pope Julius Second, the last of the great popes. He admired Emerson, and was frequently seen in his company; but Alcott and Thoreau he seemed to have little respect for. Mr. Alcott once said, "I suppose Judge Hoar looks on me as the most useless person on the continent; but I can at least appreciate him."
"All fables have their morals," says Thoreau, "but the innocent enjoy the story." There is a truth represented for the imagination in those lines of a noble poem, where we are told that in our highest hours of visionary clearness we can but "see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore."
Thoreau had discovered the Merrimac and explored Walden Woods; little Doctor Holmes was peregrinating in his One-Hoss Shay, vouchsafing the confidences of his boarding-house; Lowell was beginning to violate the rules of rhetoric; Whittier was making his plea for the runaway slave; and throughout New England the Lecture Lyceum was feeling its way.
Thoreau would have been a jollier fellow if he had devoted himself to a greengrocer instead of to greens. Swinburne would have been a better moralist if he had worshipped a fishmonger instead of worshipping the sea. I prefer the philosophy of bricks and mortar to the philosophy of turnips. To call a man a turnip may be playful, but is seldom respectful.
Bardwell, in a way, started it by quoting from Thoreau; but it was old Trefethan, bald-headed and dewlapped, who took up the quotation and for the hour to come was romance incarnate. At first we wondered how many Scotches he had consumed since dinner, but very soon all that was forgotten. "It was in 1898 I was thirty-five then," he said. "Yes, I know you are adding it up. You're right.
The previous night had been an extroverted evening: a reception at a temporary art exhibition where many of her works were on display and then a speech she gave to art students, faculty, and others interested in her art at a university in Albany. She supported her premise with quotations from Emerson, Thoreau, and myriad artists.
We must all work for the sake of work; we must all work, as Thoreau says again, in any 'absorbing pursuit it does not much matter what, so it be honest'; but the most profitable work is that which combines into one continued effort the largest proportion of the powers and desires of a man's nature; that into which he will plunge with ardour, and from which he will desist with reluctance; in which he will know the weariness of fatigue, but not that of satiety; and which will be ever fresh, pleasing and stimulating to his taste.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking