Was there ever such an autumn? And yet there was never such a panic and hard times in the commercial world. The merchants and banks are suspending and failing all the country over, but not the sandbanks, solid and warm, and streaked with bloody blackberry vines.
You may run upon them as much as you please–even as the crickets do, and find their account in it. They are the stockholders in these banks, and I hear them creaking their content.
— Henry David Thoreau, Journal