Walden

seemingly wealthy, but most terribly impoverished class of all, who
have accumulated dross, but know not how to use it, or get rid of it,
and thus have forged their own golden or silver fetters.



If I should attempt to tell how I have desired to spend my life in
years past, it would probably surprise those of my readers who are
somewhat acquainted with its actual history; it would certainly
astonish those who know nothing about it. I will only hint at some of
the enterprises which I have cherished.

In any weather, at any hour of the day or night, I have been anxious to
improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the
meeting of two eternities, the past and future, which is precisely the
present moment; to toe that line. You will pardon some obscurities, for
there are more secrets in my trade than in most men’s, and yet not
voluntarily kept, but inseparable from its very nature. I would gladly
tell all that I know about it, and never paint “No Admittance” on my
gate.

I long ago lost a hound, a bay horse, and a turtle-dove, and am still
on their trail. Many are the travellers I have spoken concerning them,
describing their tracks and what calls they answered to. I have met one