Henry Thoreau A Critical Analysis

Henry Thoreau A Critical Analysis

Henry David Thoreau wrote in chapter 2 of Waldon:
Time is but a stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. It?s thin current slides away, but eternity remains. I would drink deeper; fish in the sky, whose bottom are pebbly with stars. I cannot count one. I know not the first letter of the alphabet. I have always been regretting that I was not as wise as the day I was born. The intellect is a cleaver; it discerns and rifts its way into then secret of things. I do not wish to be any more busy with my hands than is necessary. My head is hands and feet. I feel all my best faculties concentrated in it. My instincts tell me my head is an organ for burrowing, as some creatures use their snout and fore-paws, and with it I will mine and burrow my way through these hills. I think that the richest vein is somewhere hereabouts; so by the divining rod and thin rising vapors I judge; and here

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