It had ceased raining in the night and he walked out on the road and called for the dog. He called and called. Standing in that inexplicable darkness. Where there was no sound anywhere save only the wind. After a while he sat in the road. He took off his hat and placed it on the tarmac before him and he bowed his head and held his face in his hands and wept. He sat there for a long time and after a while the east did gray and after a while the right and godmade sun did rise, once again, for all and without distinction.

Ah me, thou Destiny, Giver of evil gifts.

You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from.

Ive seen the meanness of humans till I dont know why God aint put out the sun and gone away.

Deep in each man is the knowledge that something knows of his existence. Something knows, and cannot be fled nor hid from.

Suttree stood among the screaming leaves and called the lightning down. It cracked and boomed about and he pointed out the darkened heart within him and cried for light. If there be any art in the weathers of this earth. Or char these bones to coal. If you can, if you can. A blackened rag in the rain.

Maybe it's like Mac says. Ever man winds up with the horse that suits him.