Wrapping up his experimental sojourn at Walden, Thoreau recounts the tale of a long-dormant "bug" resurrected from his "well-seasoned tomb" in an old wooden table and then asks: "Who knows what beautiful and winged life... may unexpectedly come forth from amidst society's most trivial and handselled furniture, to enjoy its perfect summer life at last!"
That's a good optimist's question. (And, a self-therapist's). I'll bet it came to him on his way to work.
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