“Take me into the mountains.”

I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.

Walk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer.

Hidden in the glorious wildness like unmined gold.

One should go to the woods for safety, if for nothing else.

The mountains are calling and I must go.

I have never yet happened upon a trace of evidence that seemed to show that any one animal was ever made for another as much as it was made for itself.

Anyhow we never know where we must go, nor what guides we are to get – people, storms, guardian angels, or sheep.

Raindrops blossom brilliantly in the rainbow, and change to flowers in the sod, but snow comes in full flower direct from the dark, frozen sky.

And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.

Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.

Go quietly, alone; no harm will befall you.

Few places in this world are more dangerous than home.

All the world was before me and every day was a holiday, so it did not seem important to which one of the world’s wildernesses I first should wander.

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.

The galling harness of civilization drops off, and wounds heal ere we are aware.

Go where we will, all the world over, we seem to have been there before.

Nothing truly wild is unclean.

Walk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer.

The mountains are calling and I must go.

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.

Going to the mountains is going home.

We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us.

One day’s exposure to mountains is better than a cartload of books.

Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity