To say nothing is out here is incorrect; to say the desert is stingy with everything except space and light, stone and earth is closer to the truth.

Be careful going in search of adventure - it's ridiculously easy to find.

The four horsemen of the prairie are tornado, locust, drought, and fire, and the greatest of these is fire, a rider with two faces because for everything taken, it makes a return in equal measure.

Instead of insight, maybe all a man gets is strength to wander for a while. Maybe the only gift is a chance to inquire, to know nothing for certain. An inheritance of wonder and nothing more.

You never feel better than when you start feeling good after you've been feeling bad.

A true journey, no matter how long the travel takes, has no end.

Other than to amuse himself, why should a man pretend to know where he's going or understand what he sees?