There's No Substitute For Loyalty.

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.

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.

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.

Success, Like Fashion, Is A Fickle Companion And Can Leave One In The Wink Of An Eye.

Neither Our Own Passing Nor The Passing Of An Era Is A Tragedy, No Matter How Much We Would Like To Think It Is.