I remember a hundred lovely lakes, and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. The trail has strung upon it, as upon a thread of silk, opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets.
“I am doing things that are true to me. The only thing I have a problem with is being labeled.”
“If I'd learned nothing else, it was this: If you want to be a great writer, be a man. If you can't be a man, write like one.”