damn the world and its wars, she thought. Those who start the wars never die in them. She packed hastily, had supper with Winnie - Jim Harrison

I hope to define my life, whatever is left, by migrations, south and north with the birds and far from the metallic fever of clocks, the self staring at the clock saying, “I must do this.” I can’t tell the time on the tongue of the river in the cool morning air, the smell of the ferment of greenery, the dust off the canyon’s rock walls, the swallows swooping above the scent of raw water.

Някои хора чуват вътрешните си гласове с голяма яснота и се научават да живеят с това, което са чули. Такива хора полудяват или се превръщат в легенда.

Birthdays are [soul chasers,] ghost bounty hunters that track you down to ask [the usual question], “Qué pasa, baby?