"Yet even in the loneliness of the canyon I knew there were others like me who had brothers they did not understand but wanted to help. We are probab… - Norman Maclean

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the
world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are
timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.

The world is full of bastards, the number increasing rapidly the further one gets from Missoula, Montana.

It is a strange and wonderful and somewhat embarrassing feeling to hold someone in your arms who is trying to detach you from the earth and you aren't good enough to follow her.