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"This ferry was taken over by the Yumas and operated for them by a man named Callaghan, but within days it was burned and Callaghan's headless body floated anonymously downriver, a vulture standing between the shoulderblades in clerical black, silent rider to the sea."
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"I froze, shocked. (And don't try to claim that you did anything different the first time a government bureaucrat pulled a gun on you.)"
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Personal Development
"Do you know what I think?" Marcone said."You think we should shoot Nicodemus in the back at the first opportunity and let Michael dismember him.""Yes."I drew my gun. "Okay."
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Personal Development
"Begin to see the violence around you, begin to see the violence within you."
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Personal Development
"Damn,' someone behind me says. 'I was hoping we would get to scrape some Stiff pancake off the pavement later."
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Personal Development
"He kills her in her own humor."
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Personal Development
"Was there ever a war where only one side bled?"
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Personal Development
"As one of the motorbikes came towards me, I let a big heavy right go, and knocked the rider's head clean off his shoulders! Fucking hell, the guy's head was still in his helmet and it was clattering all the way down the road."
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Personal Development
"Violence can be a gift. Violence belongs to everyone."
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Personal Development
"May be the power lies in the hands of the one who holds the gun... so he just presses the trigger whenever the slightest streak of anger passes his mind... and after a few haunting days he roams freely in the country without fear .. and what about the one who faces the wrath and bears the bullets? He leaves a movement behind... but haven't such movements always been ephemeral? Is death the price you need to pay to open the eyes of those who care but just for a couple of days?"
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Personal Development
"To protect one's own statement is the greatest form of violence. To impress upon others that his statement is correct is a form of violence itself."
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"When we're all gone at last then there'll be nobody here but death and his days will be numbered too. He'll be out in the road there with nothing to do and nobody to do it to. He'll say: where did everybody go? And that's how it will be. What's wrong with that?"
Mortality
"A big lemoncolored cat watched him from the top of a woodstove. He turned his head to see it better and it elongated itself like hot taffy down the side of the stove and vanished headfirst in the earth without a sound."
Mystery
"He believed in God even if he was doubtful of men's claims to know God's mind. But that a God unable to forgive was no God at all."
Forgiveness
"If war is not holy man is nothing but antic clay."
War
"Every day is a lie. But you are dying. That is not a lie."
Philosophy
"He remembered Alejandra and the sadness he'd first seen in the slope of her shoulders which he'd presumed to understand and of which he knew nothing and he felt a loneliness he'd not known since he was a child and he felt wholly alien to the world although he loved it still. He thought that in the beauty of the world were hid a secret. He thought the world's heart beat at some terrible cost and that the world's pain and it's beauty moved in a relationship of diverging equity and that in this headlong deficit the blood of multitudes might ultimately be exacted for the vision of a single flower."
Emotion
"Words are things. The words he is in possession of he cannot be deprived of. Their authority transcends his ignorance of their meaning."
Communication
"His feet went banging down some stairs. He closed his eyes. They went through cinders and dirt, his heels gathering small windrows of trash. A dim world receded above his upturned toes, shapes of skewed shacks erupted bluely in the niggard lamplight. The rusting carcass of an automobile passed slowly on his right. Dim scenes pooling in the summer night, wan ink wash of junks tilting against a paper sky, rorschach boatmen poling mutely over a mooncobbled sea. He lay with his head on the moldy upholstery of an old car seat among packingcrates and broken shoes and suncrazed rubber toys in the dark. Something warm was running on his chest. He put up a hand. I am bleeding. Unto my death."
Reality
"I never had any doubts about my abilities. I knew I could write. I just had to figure out how to eat while doing."
Career
"He lay on his back in his blankets and looked our where the quartermoon lay cocked over the heel of the mountains. In the false blue dawn the Pleiades seemed to be rising up into the darkness above the world and dragging all the stars away, the great diamond of Orion and Cepella and the signature of Cassiopeia all rising up through the phosphorous dark like a sea-net. He lay a long time listening to the others breathing in their sleep while he contemplated the wildness about him, the wildness within."
Nature
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