And if there are no cars or planes, and if no one’s Uncle John is out in the wood lot west of town banging away at a quail or pheasant; if the only sound is the slow beat of your own heart, you can hear another sound, and that is the sound of life winding down to its cyclic close, waiting for the first winter snow to perform last rites.

The bad ideas kind of just drop out of the mix. You forget about them. The good ones stick around.

Come on back and we’ll see if you remember the simplest thing of all – how it is to be children, secure in belief and thus afraid of the dark.

...maybe the world needs a cadre of smartasses to liven things up, who knows?

Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink. Drink and be filled up.

Resistance to change is proportional to how much the future might be altered by any given act.

Don't look back, never look back. How often do people tell themselves that after an experience that is exceptionally good (or exceptionally bad?)? Often, I suppose. And the advice usually goes unheeded. Humans were built to look back; that's why we have tat swivel joint in our necks.