As for what you're calling hard luck - well, we made New England out of it. That and codfish.

Technology will never rescue anyone from being a bad poet, but if you're good, it has the potential to do a lot of exciting things.

When Daniel Boone goes by at night The phantom deer arise And all lost, wild America Is burning in their eyes.

I do think that the kind of writing that I do will always be around and printed in books, magazines, and now blogs.

If two New Hampshiremen aren't a match for the devil, we might as well give the country back to the Indians.

Our earth is but a small star in a great universe. Yet of it we can make, if we choose, a planet unvexxed by war, untroubled by hunger or fear, undivided by senseless distinctions of race, color or theory.

Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.