I looked up at the dark sky and prayed to God for a better break in life and a better chance to do something for the little people I loved.

Live, travel, adventure, bless, and don't be sorry.

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.

Ah, it was a fine night, a warm night, a wine-drinking night, a moony night, and a night to hug your girl and talk and spit and be heavengoing.

Some of my most neurotically fierce bitterness is the result of realizing how untrue people have become.

At night in this part of the West the stars, as I had seen them in Wyoming, were as big as Roman Candles and as lonely as the Prince who's lost his ancestral home and journeys across the spaces trying to find it again, and knows he never will.

This was a manuscript of the night we couldn’t read.