He said that men believe the blood of the slain to be of no consequence but that the wolf knows better. He said that the wolf is a being of great order and that it knows what men do not: that there is no order in this world save that which death has put there.

Finally he said that among men there was no such communion as among horses and the notion that men can be understood at all was probably an illusion.

What joins men together ... is not the sharing of bread but the sharing of enemies.

I got what I needed instead of what I wanted and that's just about the best kind of luck you can have.

You say you can't? Then don't do it. That's all.

This is my child, he said. I wash a dead man's brains out of his hair. That is my job.

He said that whether a man's life was writ in a book someplace or whether it took its form day by day was one and the same for it had but one reality and that was the living of it.