Much of command is the ability to take command.
I do not believe writers should read reviews of their own books, and I do not. If one is not careful one is soon writing to please reviewers and not their audience or themselves.
I do not like violence, but ours is a violent time, and there are some men who understand nothing else.
Living a life is much like climbing mountains-the summits are always further off than you think, but when a man has a goal, he always feels he’s working toward something.
A man who says he has never been scared is either lying or else he’s never been any place or done anything.
The wind was cold off the mountains and I was a naked man with enemies behind me, and nothing before me but hope.
For one who reads, there is no limit to the number of lives that may be lived.
When corruption is visited upon the cities of men, the mountains and the deserts await him. The cities are for money but the high-up hills are purely for the soul.
My lady had the body of a siren, the face of a goddess, and the mind of an Armenian camel dealer.
Power not only corrupts he who wields the power but those who submit to it. Those who grovel at the feet of power betray their fellows to hide themselves behind the cloak of submission. It is an evil thing.
The idea of education has been so tied to schools, universities, and professors that many assume there is no other way, but education is available to anyone within reach of a library, a post office, or even a newsstand.
Ancestry is most important to those who have done nothing themselves.
What people speak of as adventure is something nobody in his right mind would seek out, and it becomes romantic only when one is safely at home.
Nobody got anywhere in the world by simply being content.
The only thing that never changes is that everything changes.
I have told many, yet when I go down that last trail, I know there will be a thousand stories hammering at my skull, demanding to be told.
If you want the law to leave you alone, keep your hair trimmed and your boots shined.
I wonder why it is the man who pleads for mercy never gives it.
Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers, for each rage leaves him less than he had been before – it takes something from him.
Today is all we have, tomorrow is a mirage that may never become reality.