What exactly did people do when they had all the time in the world and could do whatever they liked?

You know, maybe that's all anybody wants, is to be useful. And have somebody else notice it.

As readers can probably tell from my books, I love the outdoors.

It seems to me that we can’t explain all the truly awful things in the world like war and murder and brain tumors, and we can’t fix these things, so we look at the frightening things that are closer to us and we magnify them until they burst open. Inside is something that we can manage, something that isn’t as awful as it had a first seemed. It is a relief to discover that although there might be axe murderers and kidnappers in the world, most people seem a lot like us: sometimes afraid and sometimes brave, sometimes cruel and sometimes kind.

Then I thought, boy, isn't that just typical? You wait and wait and wait for something, and then when it happens, you feel sad.

When I read good stories, I want to write good stories too.

Don't judge a man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins.