I learned that the richness of life is found in adventure. . . . It develops self-reliance and independence. Life then teems with excitement. There is stagnation only in security.
The English literary movement at the end of the 18th century was obviously due in great part, if not mainly, to the renewed practice of walking.
Some do not walk at all; others walk in the highways; a few walk across lots.
.... the brisk exercise imparts elasticity to the muscles, fresh and healthy blood circulates through the brain, the mind works well, the eye is clear, the step is firm, and a day's exertion always makes the evening's repose thoroughly enjoyable.
Recreation in the open is of the finest grade. The moral benefits are all positive. The individual with any soul cannot live long in the presence of towering mountains or sweeping plains without getting a little of the high moral standard of Nature infused into his being ... with eyes opened, the great story of the Earth's forming, the history of a tree, the life of a flower or the activities of some small animal will all unfold themselves to the recreationist.
We souls on foot, with foot-folk meet: For we that cannot hope to ride For ease or pride, have fellowship.
The path up and down is one and the same.
I can remember walking as a child. It was not customary to say you were fatigued. It was customary to complete the goal of the expedition.
If a walker is indeed an individualist there is nowhere he can't go at dawn and not many places he can't go at noon. But just as it demeans life to live alongside a great river you can no longer swim in or drink from, to be crowded into safer areas and hours takes much of the gloss off walking - one sport you shouldn't have to reserve a time and a court for.
For observing nature, the best pace is a snail's pace.
A week of sweeping fogs has passed over and given me a strange sense of exile and desolation. I walk round the island nearly every day, yet I can see nothing anywhere but a mass of wet rock, a strip of surf, and then a tumult of waves.
Give me strength to walk the soft earth, a relative to all that is.
It seems possible to give a preliminary definition of walking as a space of enunciation.
Hiking alone lets me have some time to myself.
The art of walking is at once suggestive of the dignity of man. Progressive motion alone implies power, but in almost every other instance it seems a power gained at the expense of self-possession.
Details of the many walks I made along the crest have blurred, now, into a pleasing tapestry of grass and space and sunlight.
Mostly, two miles an hour is good going.
There is a life-force within your soul, seek that life. There is a gem in the mountain of your body, seek that mine. O traveller, if you are in search of that Don't look outside, look inside yourself and seek that.
Make your feet your friend.
And I have been able to give freedom and life which was acknowledged in the ecstasy of walking hand in hand across the most beautiful bridge of the world, the cables enclosing us and pulling us upward in such a dance as I have never walked and never can walk with another.
Farewell we call to hearth and hall! Though wind may blow and rain may fall. We must away ere the break of day. Far over wood and mountain tall.
A pedestrian is a man in danger of his life. A walker is a man in possession of his soul.
All walking is discovery. On foot we take the time to see things whole.
What you're missing is that the path itself changes you.
Of all exercises, walking is the best.
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