Ah me son, we don't be takin' nothin' from the sea. We has to sneak up on what we wants and wiggle it away

It is in our nature to travel into our past, hoping thereby to illuminate the darkness that bedevils the present.

On my 70th birthday, I was asked how I felt about mankind's prospects. This is my reply: We are behaving like yeasts in a brewer's vat, multiplying mindlessly while greedily consuming the substance of a finite world. If we continue to imitate the yeasts, we will perish as they perish, having exhausted our resources and poisoned ourselves in the lethal brew of our own wastes. Unlike the yeasts, we have a choice. What will it be?

The wolf never kills for fun, which is probably one of the main differences distinguishing him from man.

We're under some gross misconception that we're a good species, going somewhere important, and that at the last minute we'll correct our errors and God will smile on us. It's delusion.

Without a function, we cease to be. So, I will write till I die.

I write better in Cape Breton... too many people around in Ontario. Down there I meet all sorts of non-human people, but they don't bother me, and I don't feel I have to apologize on behalf of my species quite so often.