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

Our fathers and ourselves sowed dragon's teeth. Our children know and suffer the armed men.

Honesty is as rare as a man without self-pity.

I tried to think of my knowledge, but it was a squirrel's heap of winter nuts. There was no strength in my knowledge any more and I felt small and naked as a new-hatched bird.

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.

I don't think I have ever really gotten Leopold Bloom's interior ramblings out of my head! I am sure that voice continues to inspire the walking consciousness in my work - that is, the way I carry on an interior monologue as I walk through this city.

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