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.
What is there that confers the noblest delight? What is that which swells a man's breast with pride above that which any other experience can bring to him? Discovery!
We are here on the planet only once, and might as well get a feel for the place.
Beauty surrounds us, but usually we need to be walking in a garden to know it.
It is a great art to saunter !
Nature, and the original system that created us, must always remain somehow with us, the bedrock of our movements and actions. What is our duty? To live a life.
If you don't know where you are, you don't know who you are.
The lessons we learn from the wild become the etiquette of freedom.
We have seen from experience that, if we are in the habit of walking regularly on the same road, we are able to think about other things while walking, without paying attention to our steps.
It was a pleasure and a privilege to walk with him [H.D. Thoreau]. He knew the country like a fox or a bird, and passed through it as freely by paths of his own.
Wilderness has been characterized as barren and unproductive; little can be grown in its sand and rock. But the crops of wilderness have always been its spiritual values - silence and solitude, a sense of awe and gratitude - able to be harvested by any traveler who visits.
It is an old custom of these people to pick up a stone and toss it on the pile. Perhaps it is a symbolical lightening of the load they carry, perhaps a small offering to the gods of the trails.
Walking I am unbound, and find that precious unity of life and imagination, that silent outgoing self, which is so easy to loose, but which a high moments seems to start up again from the deepest rhythms of my own body. How often have I had this longing for an infinite walk - of going unimpeded, until the movement of my body as I walk fell into the flight of streets under my feet - until I in my body and the world in its skin of earth were blended into a single act of knowing.
I dressed and went for a walk - determined not to return until I took in what Nature had to offer.
I was walking an average of about two and a half miles a day, which is still more than most Americans. Most Americans don't even walk that.
If you want to know if your brain is flabby, feel your legs.
We must walk before we run.
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