I am grateful for what I am & have.
My thanksgiving
is perpetual.
It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite —
only a sense of existence.
Well, anything for variety.
I am ready to try this
for the next 1000 years, & exhaust it.
How sweet to think of!
My
extremities well charred, and my intellectual part too,
so that there is no
danger of worm or rot for a long while.
My breath is sweet to me.
O how I laugh
when I think of my vague indefinite riches.
No run on my bank can drain it —
for
my wealth is not possession but enjoyment.
Henry David Thoreau
Letter to Harrison Gray Otis Blake 1856
