Henry David Thoreau

I lose my respect for the man who can make the mystery of sex the subject of a coarse jest, yet when you speak earnestly and seriously on the subject, is silent.

Love must be as much a light, as it is a flame.

It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes.

The stars are the apexes of what triangles!

To say that a man is your Friend, means commonly no more than this, that he is not your enemy. Most contemplate only what would be the accidental and trifling advantages of Friendship, as that the Friend can assist in time of need by his substance, or his influence, or his counsel. Even the utmost goodwill and harmony and practical kindness are not sufficient for Friendship, for Friends do not live in harmony merely, as some say, but in melody.

Aim above morality. Be not simply good, be good for something.

Here undoubtedly lies the chief poetic energy: -in the force of imagination that pierces or exalts the solid fact, instead of floating among cloud-pictures.

Climate is what we expect, weather is what we get.

What do we call love, hate, charity, revenge, humanity, forgiveness? Different results of the master impulse, the necessity of securing one’s self-approval.

That which we call character is a reserved force which acts directly by presence, and without means. It is conceived of as a certain undemonstrable force, a familiar or genius, by whose impulses the man is guided, but whose counsels he cannot impart.

There is nothing more distressing or tiresome than a writer standing in front of an audience and reading his work.

I know no religion that destroys courtesy, civility, and kindness.

Better a broken promise than none at all.

Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.

Why harass with eternal purposes a mind to weak to grasp them?

Where secrecy or mystery begins, vice or roguery is not far off.

Discern of the coming on of years, and think not to do the same things still; for age will not be defied.

If you would convince a man that he does wrong, do right. Men will believe what they see.

Virtue is too often merely local.

Blessed is the man, who having nothing to say, abstains from giving wordy evidence of the fact.

Nothing does reason more right, than the coolness of those that offer it: For Truth often suffers more by the heat of its defenders, than from the arguments of its opposers.