A journey of four hundred and thirty miles can be made in any part of the United States, but in Turkey it takes as many days.

History in its broadest aspect is a record of man's migrations from one environment to another.

The human organism inherits so delicate an adjustment to climate that, in spite of man's boasted ability to live anywhere, the strain of the frozen North eliminates the more nervous and active types of mind.

Year by year we are learning that in this restless, strenuous American life of ours vacations are essential.

In America the most widespread type of forest is the evergreen coniferous woodland of the north.

Man could not stay there forever. He was bound to spread to new regions, partly because of his innate migratory tendency and partly because of Nature's stern urgency.

The Indians could not undertake any widespread cultivation of the plains not only because they lacked iron tools but also because they had no draft animals.

Thus the races, though alike in their physical response to climate, may possibly be different in their mental response because they have approached America by different paths.

As a matter of fact, an ordinary desert supports a much greater variety of plants than does either a forest or a prairie.

Surprising as it may seem, this study indicates that similar conditions are best for all sorts of races.

The buffalo is a surprisingly stupid animal.

Although mountains may guide migrations, the plains are the regions where people dwell in greatest numbers.

For the source of any characteristic so widespread and uniform as this adaptation to environment we must go back to the very beginning of the human race.

From first to last the civilization of America has been bound up with its physical environment.

America is the last great goal of these migrations.

We are learning, too, that the love of beauty is one of Nature's greatest healers.

America forms the longest and straightest bone in the earth's skeleton.

According to the now almost universally accepted theory, all the races of mankind had a common origin.

It seems strange that almost no other traces of the strong vikings are found in America.

Curiously enough man's body and his mind appear to differ in their climatic adaptations.

The Negro, however, has been tested on an extensive scale.

The coast of British Columbia was one of the three chief centers of aboriginal America.

In fact, the history of North America has been perhaps more profoundly influenced by man's inheritance from his past homes than by the physical features of his present home.

A journey of four hundred and thirty miles can be made in any part of the United States, but in Turkey it takes as many days.

The evidence points to central Asia as man's original home, for the general movement of human migrations has been outward from that region and not inward.

Although farming of any sort was almost as impossible in the plains as in the dry regions of winter rains farther west, the abundance of buffaloes made life much easier in many respects.

Geologists are rapidly becoming convinced that the mammals spread from their central Asian point of origin largely because of great variations in climate.

Fertile soil, level plains, easy passage across the mountains, coal, iron, and other metals imbedded in the rocks, and a stimulating climate, all shower their blessings upon man.

Again and again, to be sure, on the way to America, and under many other circumstances, man has passed through the most adverse climates and has survived, but he has flourished and waxed strong only in certain zones.

The geysers and hot springs of the Yellowstone are another proof of recent volcanic activity.

No part of the world can be truly understood without a knowledge of its garment of vegetation, for this determines not only the nature of the animal inhabitants but also the occupations of the majority of human beings.

Today, no less than in the past, the tetrahedral form of the earth and the relation of the tetrahedron to the poles and to the equator preserve the conditions that favor rapid evolution.

After washing there was no place to pour the water except out of the window onto the heads of the people in the streets, which is the proper place to throw everything that is not wanted.

Except on their southern borders the great northern forests are not good as a permanent home for man.

Nevertheless most of the evergreen forests of the north must always remain the home of wild animals and trappers, a backward region in which it is easy for a great fur company to maintain a practical monopoly.

I suppose, in a way, this has become part of my soul. It is a symbol of my life. Whatever I have done that really matters, I've done wearing it. When the time comes, it will be in this that I journey forth. What greater honor could come to an American, and a soldier?

The feeling remains that God is on the journey, too.

Every book is a new journey. I never felt I was an expert on a subject as I embarked on a project.

I've been pleased to work with so many wonderful stars through the years. This has been an amazing journey. I hope it continues.

In my subconscious, my books were part of a single emotional journey.

But even if I'm left high and dry at the end of this wild journey, just taking it is a great feeling.

Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You'll find what you need to furnish it - memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey.

These matters having been arranged, I had a temporary awning erected near the river, and was for three or four days busily employed writing an account of our journey for the Governor's information.

My music is about the journey, about love and the human experience.

The only journey is the one within.

People who can pull you in and take you on a journey, as opposed to simply adding flash. Again, that feels very clinical, and I don't respond to that the way I used to.

One approaches the journey's end. But the end is a goal, not a catastrophe.

An illness is like a journey into a far country; it sifts all one's experience and removes it to a point so remote that it appears like a vision.

When I became a director, I wanted to convince a very reluctant Sidney into allowing me to go on the journey of his life. Sidney had gone ahead of every other African American actor.