The world is what it is, no less and no more, and therein lies its entire and sufficient meaning.

We are slaves in the sense that we depend for our daily survival upon an expand-or-expire agro-industrial empire—a crackpot machine—that the specialists cannot comprehend and the managers cannot manage. Which is, furthermore, devouring world resources at an exponential rate. We are, most of us, dependent employees. …Edward Abbey (1927-1989)

The consolation of reading biography: Most great men have led lives even more miserable than our own.

Why do I live in the desert? Because the desert is the *locus Dei*.

A good writer must have more than vin rosé in his veins, use more than Chablis for ink.

Our culture runs on coffee and gasoline, the first often tasting like the second.

Lightning streaks like gunfire through the clouds, volleys of thunder shake the air.