We sprung from thin soil, and raised more kin than crops, but we were proud folk...
Them Injuns. Takin’ the country off ‘em. In good times it must’ve been a fine life they had, huntin’ and fishin’ or driftin’ down the country on the trail of the buffalo. I ain’t sure what we’ll do to the country will be any better.
We were young then, and the West was young, with the land broad and bright before us. We knew, whatever the truth was, that every horse could be ridden, every man whipped, every girl loved.
Folks in the wagon train figured Ma would turn back, but they hadn’t known Ma so long as I had. Once she set her mind to something she wasn’t about to quit.
Under a quiet sky the planet turned, and horses ate, and men slept, and death waited for morning. –.
Not that folks disliked me or that I ever went around being mean, but folks never did get close to me and it was most likely my fault. There was always something standoffish about me. I liked folks, but I liked the wild animals, the lonely trails, and the mountains better.
I like my fellow man, but I also realize he carried a good measure of the Old Nick in him and he can find a good excuse for almost any kind of wrongdoing or mischief.
This was a big country needing big men and women to live in it, and there was no place out here for the frightened or the mean.
If they didn’t accept him, the hell with them – he could go his own way.
There are folks who can’t abide camp-robber jays, but I take to them. Often enough they’ve been my only company for days at a time, and they surely do get friendly. They’ll steal your grub right from under your nose, but who I am to criticize the lifestyle of a bird? He has his ways, I have mine. Like I say, I take to them.
A man often creates an image of a girl in his mind but when it comes right down to it that’s the only place the girl exists.
I would not have the old ways die, for all people in their own way find a path to wisdom. Each way can be a good way. Each has something to offer the world.
If at any time your Prince should pretend your position with him is sure, begin from that moment to feel unsure.
If you’re going to have peace rather than violence, both sides have got to want it. One side alone can’t make peace.
It is neither size nor age that makes a man, Mr. Ryerson, but something he has inside. My son has it.
She’d never been one to think in terms of years, anyway. A person was what they were, and many a man at forty was sixty in his ways and many another was twenty and would never grow past it.
The trees are aware, and the bushes. The birds and small animals are aware, and they listen, hesitant, suspecting. Awareness of danger is an element of their being. It is like their breathing, like the blood in their veins, and one who lives much with the wilderness become so aware, too... Half of woodcraft is attention, and all of survival.
It is a living. It is enough. I am free. The nights are long and quiet, the mornings cool and bright, I live with the sun, the moon, and the stars. The air is fresh where I am, and there is no one to hurry me or to demand this or that of me.
I have education and once I had position. Now I am nobody, but I am happy.
It didn’t seem fair, but then, a lot of things aren’t. We take them as they come.