Therefore I was armed with nothing but a good stout holly staff, seasoned well for many a winter in our back-kitchen chimney.
Although my heart was leaping high with the prospect of some adventure, and the fear of meeting Lorna, I could not but be gladdened by the softness of the weather, and the welcome way of everything.

There was that power all round, that power and that goodness, which make us come, as it were, outside our bodily selves, to share them.

Over and beside us breathes the joy of hope and promise; under foot are troubles past; in the distance bowering newness tempts us ever forward.

We quicken with largesse of life, and spring with vivid mystery.
And, in good sooth, I had to spring, and no mystery about it, ere ever I got to the top of the rift leading into Doone-glade.

For the stream was rushing down in strength, and raving at every corner; a mort of rain having fallen last night and no wind come to wipe it.