Man is troubled by what might be called the Dog Wish, a strange and involved compulsion to be as happy and carefree as a dog

A false or misunderstood word may create as much disaster as a sudden thoughtless act.

Love is what you've been through with somebody.

A burden in the bush is worth two on your hands.

Youcanfooltoomanyofthepeopletoomuchofthetime. See Lincoln 510:35.

My grandmother lived the latter years of her life in the horrible suspicion that electricity was dripping invisibly all over the house. It leaked, she contended, out of empty sockets if the wall switch had been left on. She would go around screwing in bulbs, and if they lighted up, she would fearfully turn off the wall switch and go back to her Pearson's or Everybody's, happy in the satisfaction that she had stopped not only a costly but dangerous leakage. nothing could ever clear this up for her.

I never had a dog that showed a human fear of death. Death, to a dog, is the final unavoidable compulsion, the least ineluctable scent on a fearsome trail, but they like to face it alone, going out into the woods, among the leaves, if there are any leaves when their time comes, enduring without sentimental human distraction the Last Loneliness, which they are wise enough to know cannot be shared by anyone.