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Jan 2015
A written word is the choicest of relics,
It is something at once more intimate with us,
And more universal than any other work of art,
Just as books are the treasured wealth of the world,

I wanted to live deliberately,
So I went to the woods,
And I found it wholesome to be alone there,
For we need the tonic of wildness,

A single gentle rain,
Makes the grass many shades greener,
So our prospects brighten,
On the influx of better thoughts,

We should be blessed if we lived in the present always,
And took advantage of every accident that befell us.
Words taken by Henry David Thoreau in his work *Walden*.
Adrian3
Written by
Adrian3
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   JParker and rjr
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