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301
He who uses well his time and enjoys his work, sees little value in vacation. A man, in this sense, can save his day with a walk.
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243
Yet this has all before been noted, – for the mysteries that have stood us most in travail and quandary over the ages have come with man, and he still buries his spade in the Earth and routs a furrow across the globe for riddles to answers that he, himself concocts.
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134
At times, by a precise and perfect Aurora coaxing my artistry needs that won, comprises the sweeter aspects of any day. But for some crack in the spell by untimely distract, escapes thus my Nymph to the woods where can no hope from dispersion be rescued.
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132: Letters
How merrily we go about our lives, abducted by unimportant figuring, and sections of time ransomed for counterfeit. How we save up our days and for it are not wealthier, but aged just as soon, and destitute of those rich youth-giving memories that warm like a letter from an old friend.
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129
There is no way knowing as the sun retreats, if it is perhaps for you the last of days. Withdraw but a moment as the daylight dims, to dwell upon your change, and how equipped you have become to contribute better; if it be fortunes good grace your eyes open tomorrow.
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101: The pavement
They spread themselves o’er the sun-gladdened pavement consoled for the rare effect, and how nice, I thought, to be unstifled of anything at all, and mightily wished would it last that all my souls journeys or recesses were so unshod as my weary soles presently. Perhaps, but for the binding, no soothing completes, or prevails […]
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96
It required no less than three separate walks today to reestablish good physical vigour and a more charitable mood, than otherwise would have succeeded sedentarily. New and curious, and I dare say, nearer to ones innateness are the thoughts and resolutions that unsought, will gently approach if the avenues are unfamiliar and no station fixed […]
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80: Farewell the Winter
Can such things be, and apprehend like a Winter Sun? From its highest seat entirety is touched. Woe into dew thaws, the intellect has no answer at last. An eye cannot bear to blink. No face is unfelt of its warmth, no heart left uncheered beneath, nor does any farewell quite endear, as when it […]