SEASONS Quotations

 

Do we detect the reason why we also did not die on the approach of spring?—Journal, 9 April 1856
Each season is but an infinitesimal point. It no sooner comes than it is gone. — Journal, 6 June 1857—Journal, 6 June 1857
Each summer sound Is a summer round. — "Natural History of Massachusetts"—"Natural History of Massachusetts"
Even a little shining bud which lies sleeping behind its twig and dreaming of spring, perhaps half concealed by ice, is object enough.—Journal, 10 January 1856
Everywhere in woods and swamps I am already reminded of the fall.—Journal23 August 1858
Give me the old familiar walk, postoffice and all, with this ever new self, with this infinite expectation and faith, which does not know when it is beaten. We'll go nutting once more. We'll pluck the nut of the world, and crack it in the winter evenings. Theaters and all other sightseeing are puppet-shows in comparison. I will take another walk to the Cliff, another row on the river, another skate on the meadow, be out in the first snow, and associate with the winter birds. Here I am at home. In the bare and bleached crust of the earth I recognize my friend.—Journal, 1 November 1858
Go and measure to what length the silvery willows catkins have crept out beyond their scales, if you would know what time o' the year it is by Nature's clock.—Journal, 2 March 1859
How imperceptibly the first springing takes place!—Journal, 3 March 1859
How silent are the footsteps of Spring!—Journal, 30 March 1856
I am no more lonely than the loon in the pond that laughs so loud, or than Walden Pond itself. What company has that lonely lake, I pray? And yet it has not the blue devils, but the blue angels in it, in the azure tint of its waters. The sun is alone, except in thick weather, when there sometimes appear to be two, but one is a mock sun. God is alone,—but the devil, he is far from being alone; he sees a great deal of company; he is legion. I am no more lonely than a single mullein or dandelion in a pasture, or a bean leaf, or a sorrel, or a horse-fly, or a humble-bee. I am no more lonely than the Mill Brook, or a weathercock, or the northstar, or the south wind, or an April shower, or a January thaw, or the first spider in a new house.—Walden
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