In a life properly lived, you're a river.

Beware, O wanderer, the road is walking too.

You touch things lightly or deeply; you move along because life herself moves, and you can’t stop it.

When we were children we were errant enough to wish to be birds for the day but there's nothing easier to lose than playfulness.

The wilderness does not make you forget your normal life so much as it removes the distractions for proper remembering.

One of the curious effects of a bad hangover is that you think you're wrong whether you are or not. Not wrong in particulars, but wrong in general, wrong about everything.

I thought, frankly, that it would be more pleasant to write a memoir than it was.