A man who allows wild passion to arise within, himself burns his heart, then after burning adds the wind that thereto which ignites the fire again, or not, as the case may be.

The mad road, lonely, leading around the bend into the openings of space towards the horizon Wasatch snows promised us in the vision of the West, spine heights…

Literature is no longer Necessary Teaching is left.

I'm writing this book because we're all going to die - In the loneliness of my life, my father dead, my brother dead, my mother far away, my sister and my wife…

When Man comes at me do I rein in the stallion, or let him meet the hooves?

Passion is the drunkenness of the mind.

There seem near as many people that want passion as want reason.