I’m in love with Montana. For other states I have admiration, respect, recognition, even some affection. But with Montana it is love. And it’s difficult to analyze love when you’re in it.

He never fell, never slipped back, never flew.

I ought to of shot that dog myself, George. I shouldn't ought to of let no stranger shoot my dog.

Saints can spring from any soil.

I dislike helplessness in other people and in myself, and this is by far my greatest fear of illness.

The impulse of the American woman to geld her husband and castrate her sons is very strong.

I am sifting my memories, the way men pan the dirt under a barroom floor for the bits of gold dust that fall between the cracks. It's small mining-- small mining. You're too young a man to be panning memories, Adam. You should be getting yourself some new ones, so that the mining will be richer when you come to age.