There are places which exist in this world beyond the reach of imagination.

The contemplative man always lives alone. Regardless of who may reside in his home, his is a solitary world.

This was going to be difficult, because he enjoyed women, but all the ones he has known seemed to be sent as secret assassins on a mission to destroy his pride and ability.

It occurred to me that no words by the tongue of man can express the simplicities of a quiet land, so I returned to the river.

There was a wildness inside him; someday he would capture it. Not to be tamed, but to be released. For only by understanding his mind could it be freed.

Every falling leaf reminds me that I too will soon be separated from these trees. Trying to capture freedom is like trying to catch a falling leaf. Occasionally you may grab one out of the air and hold it in your hands, but now what?

Can you imagine a scenario, given our present circumstances, in which human life will actually survive and be here in a thousand years?

Returning to nature has been a dream present in the minds of every generation since mankind first left nature.

I walked slowly to enjoy this freedom, and when I came out of the mountains, I saw the sky over the prairie, and I thought that if heaven was real, I hoped it was a place I never had to go, for this earth was greater than any paradise.

The trout is still with me, as are my memories. The future is somewhere between these two forces, but it lives in mystery. The river records to trail behind or before me, and covers everything as it flows. This mountain and this river are old, yet as I wade alone, they both appear young and new to me.

When I returned to camp, they walked behind me on the trail, and we spoke not a word about getting skunked today, but rather talked about the days we returned with a stringer full of fish, and how we filleted them and the left the guts out for bears and eagles, and how those fish tasted fresh when we fried them over a fire.

As Gabe continued to speak, he sounded to be a cheerful and intelligent person, two attributes I have commonly found associated with people who spend most of their time outdoors.
-from New River, in the anthology AWAKE IN THE WORLD.

This was going to be difficult, because he enjoyed women, but all the ones he has known seemed to have been sent as secret assassins on a mission to destroy his pride and ability.

I watched the surrounding landscape with great curiosity, and I wanted to discover the words that could describe all its unspoiled beauty.

As the saturating colors of sun-life fade from sight, the ominous moon reaches out its long arm and applies the dark dyes of night.

I often wonder what happened to those few I spent my youth in battle beside, those select individuals whom I was drawn to simply by coincidence, whom I joined forces with against an unknown future and a world so large that we depended upon each other because none of us knew a damn thing, and we were all so wise.

If happiness required me to ignore my thoughts and questions, then I hoped to never be happy.

The outside is the only place we can truly be inside the world.

The mountains knew the definition of freedom. They provided a place where he could find his mind.

He never cared too much for parties or people, but misanthropy could easily be cured by several alcoholic drinks.