'Tis very certain that each man carries in his eye the exact indication of his rank in the immense scale of men, and we are always learning to read i… - Ralph Waldo Emerson

In the woods is perpetual youth. In the woods we return to faith and reason.

We hide this universality if we can, but it appears at all points. We are as ungrateful as children. There is nothing we cherish and strive to draw to us but in some hour we turn and rend it. We keep a running fire of sarcasm at ignorance and the life of the senses; then goes by, perchance, a fair girl, a piece of life, gay and happy, and making the commonest offices beautiful by the energy and heart with which she does them; and seeing this we admire and love her and them, and say, "Lo! a genuine creature of the fair earth, not dissipated or too early ripened by books, philosophy, religion, society, or care!" insinuating a treachery and contempt for all we had so long loved and wrought in ourselves and others.

The poor, short lone fact dies at birth. Memory catches it up into her heaven and bathes it in immortal waters.