One of life’s compensations is that there is always something ahead. On an afternoon drive in the mountains, the intuitive person may pick up a global or universal sense (a feeling of being part of the entire World, one with humanity or the universe) from the experience. He is unlikely to be as concerned with the height of the trees as the cognitive type, and he will probably be less aware of scents and sights than the sensate type. He is enjoying his own internal experiences, though they might be triggered by his surroundings on the drive. A new creed became his, a belief in happiness. When standing among the trees, he gets the feeling you get when looking into the Heavens, and it seems the trees cannot be measured in inches or feet, in days or years. It is like you are a child, who snuck into the grown-ups’ party, or are a character in a fairy tale. You crane your neck to see the treetops, but it is impossible to see them in their entirety. You imagine what it would be like to climb upon their limbs, and then you do, walking along a downed tree, your arms outstretched. You wonder what it would have been like to see it fall. You wonder just how long ago it happened. And you wonder how long it would have been here, the biggest bench you have ever seen. In any deep forest, you feel obligated to whisper, as if you are in a place of worship. It is the spring in the heart of the Olympics rainforest, and moss clings to every surface as if hiding a secret, the sound of water rushing through a stream relaxes you and clears your mind.

A blanket of pine needles cushions each step, the Earth springing back beneath your feet like a trampoline.  The best of happiness is mine, the power and the will to be useful. Your soul sleeps; the shock is yet to be given which shall awaken it. We must not soar too far above the Earth, while she offers us the rich treasures of her fruit trees and vines. It is impossible to capture a forest in two dimensions. Artists and scientists deal with the World, but they differ in their intellectual attitudes and in the techniques they use to recognize and describe objects, persons, and events. Artists focus their attention on private experiences, scientists on the generic aspects of nature. This difference in attitudes is so fundamental that the aspects of the World with which science and art are respectively concerned have little in common. Divine grace, working a miracle, or nest to a miracle, can only change a bad heart. What I would not do for kindness, I would not do for money. Our hearts warm more to those we have been kind to, than to those who have been kind to us. He wants a heart: and if he does, he wants everything. Let us not even the faulty have cause to complain of unkindness from us. One can always be kind to people who one cares nothing. It is sometimes a happiness to be ignorant of our destiny. There is no such thing as happiness without alloy.