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.

There are two kinds of adventurers: those who go truly hoping to find adventure and those who go secretly hoping they won't.

Instead of insight, maybe all a man gets is strength to wander for a while.

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

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.

Spirit can go anywhere. In fact, it has to go places so it can change and emerge like in the migrations. That's the whole idea.

Beware thoughts that come in the night. They aren't turned properly; they come in askew, free of sense and restriction, deriving from the most remote of sources.