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Thursday, September 1st.–Mr. Thoreau dined with us yesterday. . . . He is a keen and delicate observer of nature,–a genuine observer,–which, I suspect, is almost as rare a character as even an original poet; and Nature, in return for his love, seems to adopt him as her especial child, and shows him secrets which few others are allowed to witness.
Tags » Nathaniel Hawthorne
Nothing is more depressing than looking up accomplished peers’ LinkedIn profiles or scrolling through acquaintances’ Instagram feeds of their seemingly glamourous lives. They just appear so much more successful (in the conventional sense), but the thing I have to remind myself (and everyone else should keep in mind) is that social media is a powerful tool and your perception is often the best bits of their reality. 429 more words
I had a fantasy of heaven's being broken into fleecy fragments | Nathaniel Hawthorne's Notebook Entry for August 27, 1839
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August 27th.–I have been stationed all day at the end of Long Wharf, and I rather think that I had the most eligible situation of anybody in Boston.
I just finished re-reading the Scarlet Letter for my literature class. The last time I read it I was a sophomore in high school. Now that I am a little older and a little wiser, I must say that I got more out of the novel the second time around. 99 more words