The sight of the country, the succession of agreeable views, open air, good appetite, the freedom of the alehouse, the absence of everything that could make me feel dependence, or recall me to my situation--all this sets my soul free, gives me a greater boldness of thought.

I dispose of all nature as its sovereign lord; my heart, wandering from object to object, mingles and is one with the things that soothe it, wraps itself up in charming images, and is intoxicated by delicious sentiment.

Ideas come as they please, not as I please: they do not come at all, or they come in a crowd, overwhelming me with their number and their force.

When I came to a place I only thought of eating, and when I left it I only thought of walking.

I felt that a new paradise awaited me at the door, and I thought of nothing but of hastening in search of it."[65] Here again is a picture of one whom vagrancy assuredly did not degrade:--"I had not the least care for the future, and I awaited the answer [as to the return of Madame de Warens to Savoy], lying out in the open air, sleeping stretched out on the ground or on some wooden bench, as tranquilly as on a bed of roses.