In Literature, it is only the wild that attracts us. Dullness is but another
name for tameness. It is the uncivilized free and wild thinking in Hamlet
and the Iliad, in all the scriptures and mythologies, not learned in the
Schools, that delights us. As the wild duck is more swift and beautiful
than the tame, so is the wild-the mallard-thought, which, 'mid falling
dews wings its way above the fens. A truly good book is something as natural,
and as unexpectedly and unaccountably fair and perfect, as a wild flower
discovered on the prairies of the west, or in the jungles of the east.