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.

Somewhere lives a bad Cajun cook, just as somewhere must live one last ivory-billed woodpecker. For me, I don't expect ever to encounter either one.

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

Historical awareness is a kind of resurrection.

Memory is each man's own last measure, and for some, the only achievement.

The open road is a beckoning, a strangeness, a place where a man can lose himself.

Get out and find ...the country. And ourselves.