“Acts have their being in the witness. Without him who can speak of it? In the end one could even say that the act is nothing, the witness all.”

Remember her hair in the morning before it was pinned, black, rampant, savage with loveliness. As if she slept in perpetual storm.

Men of God and men of war have strange affinities.

How surely are the dead beyond death. Death is what the living carry with them. A state of dread, like some uncanny foretaste of a bitter memory. But the dead do not remember and nothingness is not a curse. Far from it.

There is no God and we are his prophets.

There is no later. This is later.

The things I believed in dont exist any more. It’s foolish to pretend that they do. Western Civilization finally went up in smoke in the chimneys at Dachau but I was too infatuated to see it. I see it now.

Best way to live in California is to be from somewheres else.

The wind sounded of Mother Earth’s forsaken and abandoned cries.

They spoke less and less between them until at last they were silent altogether as is often the way with travelers approaching the end of a journey.

What he could bear in the waking world he could not by night and he sat awake for fear the dream would return.

You have to carry the fire.” I don’t know how to.” Yes, you do.” Is the fire real? The fire?” Yes it is.” Where is it? I don’t know where it is.” Yes you do. It’s inside you. It always was there. I can see it.

There is no such joy in the tavern as upon the road there to.

Anything that doesn’t take years of your life and drive you to suicide hardly seems worth doing.

We think we are the victims of time. In reality, the way of the world isn’t fixed anywhere. How could that be possible? We are our own journey. And therefore we are time as well. We are the same. Fugitive. Inscrutable. Ruthless.

The closest bonds we will ever know are bonds of grief. The deepest community one of sorrow.

She said that these were things all women knew yet seldom spoke of. Lastly she said that if women were drawn to rash men it was only that in their secret hearts they knew that a man who would not kill for them was of no use at all.

Endless money forms the sinews of war.

Surely something resides in this heart that is not perishable – and life is more than a dream.

You never change your life until you step out of your comfort zone; change begins at the end of your comfort zone.

Treat people as an end, and never as a means to an end.

They who pass their whole lives in working for their daily bread, have no ideas beyond their business or their interest, and all their understanding seems to lie in their fingers ends.

Taxes on the very necessaries of life, enable an endless tribe of idle princes and princesses to pass with stupid pomp before a gaping crowd, who almost worship the very parade which costs them so dear.

Failure is a bend in the road, not the end of the road. Learn from failure and keep moving forward.

If you want to imagine the future, imagine a boy and his dog and his friends. And a summer that never ends.