Within minutes my 115-mile walk through the desert hills becomes a thing apart, a disjunct reality on the far side of a bottomless abyss, immediately beyond physical recollection.But it's all still there in my heart and soul. The walk, the hills, the sky, the solitary pain and pleasure-they will grow larger, sweeter, lovelier in the days to come, like a treasure found and then, voluntarily, surrendered. Returned to the mountains with my blessing. It leaves a golden glowing on the mind.

A cowboy is a farm boy in leather britches and a comical hat.

Men come and go, cities rise and fall, whole civilizations appear and disappear-the earth remains, slightly modified. The earth remains, and the heartbreaking beauty where there are no hearts to break....I sometimes choose to think, no doubt perversely, that man is a dream, thought an illusion, and only rock is real. Rock and sun.

The world of employer and employee, like that of master and slave, debases both.

In order to write a book, it is necessary to sit down (or stand up) and write. Therein lies the difficulty.

Motherhood is an essential, difficult, and full-time job. Women who do not wish to be mothers should not have babies.

Life without music would be an intolerable insult.