Any life lived attentively is disillusioning as it forces us to know us as we are.

Maybe the desert wisdom of the Dakotas can teach us to love anyway, to love what is dying, in the face of death, and not pretend that things are other than they are. The irony and wonder of all of this is that it is the desert's grimness, its stillness and isolation, that brings us back to love.

When I was a child, it was a matter of pride that I could plow through a Nancy Drew story in one afternoon, and begin another in the evening. . . . I was probably trying to impress the librarians who kept me supplied with books.

In middle age we are apt to reach the horrifying conclusion that all sorrow, all pain, all passionate regret and loss and bitter disillusionment are self-made

Over and over again mediocrity is promoted because real worth isn't to be found.

When you come to a place where you have to left or right, go straight ahead.

They are fruit and transport: ripening melons, prairie schooners journeying under full sail.