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

Whoever the last true cowboy in America turns out to be, he's likely to be an Indian.

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

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.

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

No yesterdays on the road.