The Sun Shines Not On

Tell Me What You Will Of The Benefactions Of City Civilization, Of The Sweet Security Of Streets-all As Part Of The Natural Upgrowth Of Man Towards The High Destiny We Hear So Much Of. I Know That Our Bodies Were Made To Thrive Only In Pure Air, And The Scenes In Which Pure Air Is Found. If The Death Exhalations That Brood The Broad Towns In Which We So Fondly Compact Ourselves Were Made Visible, We Should Flee As From A Plague. All Are More Or Less Sick; There Is Not A Perfectly Sane Man In San Francisco.

Most People Are On The World, Not In It.

Walk Away Quietly In Any Direction And Taste The Freedom Of The Mountaineer.

I Care To Live Only To Entice People To Look At Nature’s Loveliness.

The Clearest Way Into The Universe Is Through A Forest Wilderness.