Each Thing In Its Way, When True

Climbing K2 Or Floating The Grand Canyon In An Inner Tube; There Are Some Things One Would Rather Have Done Than Do.

I Am An Enemy Of The State. But Isn't Everyone?

I, Too, Believe In Fidelity. But How Can I Be True To One Woman Without Being False To All The Others?

The Fire. The Odor Of Burning Juniper Is The Sweetest Fragrance On The Face Of The Earth, In My Honest Judgment; I Doubt If All The Smoking Censers Of Dante's Paradise Could Equal It. One Breath Of Juniper Smoke, Like The Perfume Of Sagebrush After Rain, Evokes In Magical Catalysis, Like Certain Music, The Space And Light And Clarity And Piercing Strangeness Of The American West. Long May It Burn.

I Believe That There Is A Kind Of Poetry, Even A Kind Of Truth, In Simple Fact.