War ... a reversal of the rules where a man is permitted to kill all the humans he can.
Time is the only critic without ambition.
I guess this is why I hate governments, all governments. It is always the rule, the fine print, carried out by fine-print men. There's nothing to fight, no wall to hammer with frustrated fists.
I was born lost and take no pleasure in being found.
Thoughts are slow and deep and golden in the morning.
We are lonesome animals. We spend all our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say — and to feel — "Yes, that’s the way it is, or at least that’s the way I feel it. You’re not as alone as you thought."