Walden

The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to
be bad, and if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good
behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well? You may say
the wisest thing you can, old man,—you who have lived seventy years,
not without honor of a kind,—I hear an irresistible voice which invites
me away from all that. One generation abandons the enterprises of
another like stranded vessels.

I think that we may safely trust a good deal more than we do. We may
waive just so much care of ourselves as we honestly bestow elsewhere.
Nature is as well adapted to our weakness as to our strength. The
incessant anxiety and strain of some is a well nigh incurable form of
disease. We are made to exaggerate the importance of what work we do;
and yet how much is not done by us! or, what if we had been taken sick?
How vigilant we are! determined not to live by faith if we can avoid
it; all the day long on the alert, at night we unwillingly say our
prayers and commit ourselves to uncertainties. So thoroughly and
sincerely are we compelled to live, reverencing our life, and denying
the possibility of change. This is the only way, we say; but there are