If there's anyone still present whom I've failed to insult . . . I apologize.

Cold morning on Aztec Peak Fire Lookout. First, build fire in old stove. Second, start coffee. Then, heat up last night's pork chops and spinach for breakfast. Why not? And why the hell not?

Each thing in its way, when true to its own character, is equally beautiful. (p 41)

In history-as-politics, the 'future' is that vacuum in time waiting to be filled with the antics of statesmen.

As between the skulking and furtive poacher, who hunts for the sake of meat, and the honest gentleman shooter, who kills for the pleasure of sport, I find the former a higher type of humanity.

I always wanted to be a cowboy. But alas! I was burdened early with certain inescapable obligations to world literature.

Simply because humankind have the power now to meddle or 'manage' or 'exercise stewardship' in every nook and cranny of the world does not mean that we have a right to do so. Even less, the obligation.