Man is different from animals in that he speculates, a high-risk activity.

Land of opportunity, land for the huddled masses where would the opportunity have been without the genocide of those Old Guard, bristling Indian tribes?

There were periods during my childhood when I stammered so badly I couldn't talk at all.

It's incongruous that the older we get, the more likely we are to turn in the direction of religion. Less vivid and intense ourselves, closer to the grave, we begin to conceive of ourselves as immortal.

City people try to buy time as a rule, when they can, whereas country people are prepared to kill time, although both try to cherish in their mind's eye the notion of a better life ahead.

True solitude is a din of birdsong, seething leaves, whirling colors, or a clamor of tracks in the snow.

Poetry is engendered in solitude, so what better meter for it than the clip of a buckskin horse?