Nothing can rightly compel a simple and brave man to a vulgar sadness.
While enjoy the friendship of the seasons I trust that nothing can make life a burden to me.
The gentle rain which waters my beans and keeps me in the house to-day is not drear and melancholy, but good for me too.
Though it prevents me hoeing them, it is of far more worth than my hoeing.
If it should continue so long as to cause the seeds to rot in the ground and destroy the potatoes in the lowlands, it will be good for the grass of the uplands, and, being good for the grass, it would be good for me.
Sometimes, when I compare myself to other men, it seems as if I were more favoured by the gods than they, beyond any deserts that I am conscious of – as if I had a warrant and surety at their hands which my fellows have not, and were especially guided and guarded. I do not flatter myself, but if it be possible they flatter me.
Thoreau (p. 114 of the 1927 edition of Walden)
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