Live deep

I've read a good deal of Emerson, Whitman, and Thoreau in the past few weeks. Emerson at times delights me and at other times infuriates me, but I can't keep from loving him - - I think. Thoreau is amusing and sometimes thoughtful (and a good deal easier to read), but not quite as endearing. Whitman is almost always a terrible bore. I find him so tiresome.

Here's a bit from Walden:

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.

After reading that, don't you also want to "live deep and suck out all the marrow of life?" Don't you want to "drink life to the lees" as Tennyson put it?

Pity Thoreau also thought that some have "hastily concluded that it is the chief end of man here to 'glorify God and enjoy him forever.'"

This spring break I have set myself the task of creating a resume. It seems beyond me. So now I'm wondering if perhaps I wouldn't rather just go to the woods to live deliberately.