A rancher is a farmer who farms the public lands with a herd of four-legged lawn mowers.

Late in August the lure of the mountains becomes irresistible. Seared by the everlasting sunfire, I want to see running water again, embrace a pine tree, cut my initials in the bark of an aspen, get bit by a mosquito, see a mountain bluebird, find a big blue columbine, get lost in the firs, hike above timberline, sunbathe on snow and eat some ice, climb the rocks and stand in the wind at the top of the world on the peak of Tukuhnikivats.

When riding my old Harley a ninety per at midnight down the Via Roma in Naples, I kept one consolation firmly in mind: If anything goes wrong, I'll never have time to regret it.

In America, as elsewhere, the general irritability level keeps rising.

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

Preacher to me: 'A dollar for the Lord, brother?' Me to preacher: 'That's all right, I'm headed his way. I'll give it to him when I see him.'

I hate intellectual discussion. When I hear the words 'phenomenology' or 'structuralism', I reach for my buck knife.