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560 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1950
People do not deserve to have good writing, they are so pleased with bad.
Dream delivers us to dream, and there is no end to illusion. Life is a train of moods like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue, and each shows only what lies in its focus.
In Nature (1836): “In the woods, we return to reason and faith. […] I become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God.”
In Experience (1844): “the whole frame of things preaches indifferency. Do not craze yourself with thinking, but go about your business anywhere. Life is not intellectual or critical, but sturdy.”