I'll hold on to the world tight some day. I've got one finger on it now; that's a beginning.

Why the Egyptian, Arabic, Abyssinian, Choctaw? Well, what tongue does the wind talk? What nationality is a storm? What country do rains come from? What color is lightning? Where does thunder goe when it dies?

He felt his smile slide away, melt, fold over and down on itself like a tallow skin, like the stuff of a fantastic candle burning too long and now collapsing and now blown out.

Ours is a culture and a time immensely rich in trash as it is in treasures.

Here at this far lost end of the continent, where the trail wagons had stopped and the people with them.

We meet on the common ground of an uncommon age and share out our gifts of dark and light, good and bad, simple joy and not so simple sorrow.

I don't think about what I do. I do it. That's Buddhism. I jump off the cliff and build my wings on the way down.