A Lie Is An Act

That's One Of The Great Advantages Of Age. You Can Say, I Don't Want To, I Don't Care, You Can Throw Temper Tantrums, And Nobody Minds.

I Wouldn't Write Anything Autobiographical. If You've Lived A Life Like Laurence Of Arabia, It Might Be A Consideration, But Otherwise It's A Little Bit Vain, It Seems To Me.

When You Find The Right People, You Never Let Go. The People Who Count Are The Ones Who Are Your Friends In Lean Times. You Have All The Friends You Want When Things Are Going Well.

Then The Sun Broke Above The Crest Of The Hills And The Entire Countryside Looked Soaked In Blood, The Arroyos Deep In Shadow, The Cones Of Dead Volcanoes Stark And Biscuit-colored Against The Sky. I Could Smell Pinion Trees, Wet Sage, Woodsmoke, Cattle In The Pastures, And Creek Water That Had Melted From Snow. I Could Smell The Way The Country Probably Was When It Was Only A Dream In The Mind Of God.

If There Is Any Human Tragedy, There Is Only One, And It Occurs When We Forget Who We Are And Remain Silent While A Stranger Takes Up Residence Inside Our Skin.