I have said that Texas is a state of mind, but I think it is more than that. It is a mystique closely approximating a religion.

I have lost all sense of home, having moved about so much. It means to me now--only that place where the books are kept.

I'm back with my own kind of people here now, the bums and drinkers and no goods and it is a fine thing.

“Do you take pride in your hurt?” Samuel asked. “Does it make you seem large and tragic?” “I don't know.” “Well, think about it. Maybe you're playing a part on a great stage with only yourself as audience.”

Wherever there's a cop beatin' up a guy, I'll be there.

Prayer never brought in no side-meat. Takes a shoat to bring in pork.

He saw something that makes a man doubtful of the constancy of the realities outside himself. It was the shocking discovery that makes a man wonder if I've missed this, what else have I failed to see?