In the woods too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, is always a child. In the woods, is perpetual youth.
Ralph Waldo EmersonAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet, Writer, Philosopher
- Nationality: american
- Born: May 25, 1803
- Died: April 27, 1882
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I loved her fright, which was against meinto the air! and the diamond white of her forelockwhich seemed to smart with thoughts as my heart smartedwith life! and she'd toss her head with the painand paw the air and champ the bit, as if I were Endymionand she, moon-like, hated to love me.
Frank O'Hara
Maybe, he said hesitantly, maybe there is a beast. The assembly cried out savagely and Ralph stood up in amazement. You, Simon? You believe in this? I don't know, said Simon. His heartbeats were choking him. [...]Ralph shouted. Hear him! He's got the conch! What I mean is . . . maybe it's only us. Nuts! That was from Piggy, shocked out of decorum.
William Golding