Henry David Thoreau,
Autumn
(1892)
“ I can only think of precious jewels, of music, poetry, beauty, and the mystery of life. I only see the bream in its orbit, as I see a star, but I care not to measure its distance or weight. The bream appreciated floats in the pond, as the centre of the system, another image of God. Its life no man can explain, more than he can his own. I want you to perceive the mystery of the bream. I have a contemporary in Walden. ”
