What year these events transpired is of no consequence. Where they occured is not important. The time is always, and the place is everywhere.

Golden retrievers are not bred to be guard dogs, and considering the size of their hearts and their irrepressible joy in life, they are less likely to bite than to bark, less likely to bark than to lick a hand in greeting. In spite of their size, they think they are lap dogs, and in spite of being dogs, they think they are also human, and nearly every human they meet is judged to have the potential to be a boon companion who might, at many moment, cry, "Let's go!" and lead them on a great adventure.

No degree of prosperity can be sufficient to eliminate all misfortune, and sloth is impervious to opportunity.

On the Road that I have taken, one day walking I awaken, amazed to see where I've come, where I'm going, where I'm from.

I think the world is full of evil people. I think in some ways we're in more danger now than before.

Always, beneath every apparent chaos, order waits to be revealed.

Besides, I can't get to where I want to go by conscious or unconscious suicide. I've got my strange little life to lead. Leading it the best I can - that's how I buy the ticket to where I want to be.