Think over this, that Walt Whitman wrote:—
Will you seek afar off? You surely come back at last,
In things best known to you finding the best, or as good as the best,
In folks nearest to you finding the sweetest, strongest, lovingest,
Happiness, knowledge, not in another place but in this place, not for another hour but this hour.
The two misfortunes of life are, that we are born young, and become old.
True, the mind of a child is a plot of virgin soil; but, like this, it is made up of strata of incalculable antiquity.