Death is the least civilized rite of passage.

What men call adventures usually consist of the stoical endurance of appalling daily misery.

Women are strong, strong, terribly strong. We don't know how strong until we're pushing out our babies.

...Grandpa's mind had left us, gone wild and wary. When I walked with him I could feel how strange it was. His thoughts swam between us, hidden under rocks, disappearing in weeds, and I was fishing for them, dangling my own words like baits and lures.

Society is like this card game here, cousin. We got dealt our hand before we were even born, and as we grow we have to play as best as we can.

Freedom, I found is not only in the running but in the heart, the mind, the hands.

Numbers, time, inches, feet. All are just ploys for cutting nature down to size.