Can you hear the dreams crackling like a campfire? Can you hear the dreams sweeping through the pine trees and tipis? Can you hear the dreams laughing in the sawdust? Can you hear the dreams shaking just a little bit as the day grows long? Can you hear the dreams putting on a good jacket that smells of fry bread and sweet smoke? Can you hear the dreams stay up late and talk so many stories?

I suddenly understood that if every moment of a book should be taken seriously, then every moment of a life should be taken seriously as well.

she braided my sister's hair with hands that smelled deep roots buried in the earth she told me the old stories how time never mattered when she died they gave me her clock

I don't think the revisionist historians are accurate. I think their agendas are clouded by selfishness and anger and rage.

Nostalgia is always doomed and dooming.

The dream he needed most was the dream that frightened him more.

I think the world is a series of broken dams and floods, and my cartoons are tiny little lifeboats.