If from the top of a long cold barren hill I hear the distant whistle of a thrush which seems to come up from some warm woody shelter beyond the edge of the hill, this sound coming faint over the rocks with a mingled feeling of strangeness and joy, the idea of the place about me, and the imaginary one beyond will all be combined together in such a manner in my mind as to become inseparable.
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We are all of us, more or less, the slaves of opinion.
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Based on Topics: Idea Quotes, Joy & Excitement Quotes, Manner Quotes, Place QuotesBased on Keywords: strangeness, thrush
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