QUOTATIONS
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As they say “Sh*t Happens.” At 9:00AM this morning, my bride(and one of my most loyal readers) sent me a message about the post that was supposed to be here today. What she saw, and what I saw when I went to look at this post myself, was only this: s That’s it!. Only a… Read more
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. Today a few quotes from Thoreau’s Journals on Native Americans, destiny, and interconnectedness. Enjoy! March 19. Saturday. When I walk in the fields of Concord and meditate on the destiny of this prosperous slip of the Saxon family, the unexhausted energies of this new country, I forget that this which is now Concord was… Read more
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I didn’t get out of town the next day until ten o’clock. It was three hundred fifty miles by highway to Amity. In my old clunker, allowing time for a couple of stops, I did well to average forty miles an hour. Figure it for yourself. It was almost exactly eight and a half hours… Read more
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Here are some quotes this week from Thoreau’s journals. Enjoy! The Journal 1837–1861 I thank you, God. I do not deserve anything, I am unworthy of the least regard; and yet I am made to rejoice. I am impure and worthless, and yet the world is gilded for my delight and holidays are prepared for me,… Read more
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Throwback Thursdays” at ClimbingSky feature posts I wrote over 15 year period for various blogs. This was first posted on April 23, 2014 “(The) American private eye, immortalized by Hammett, refined by Chandler, brought to its zenith by Macdonald” — New York Times Book Review “… the Archer books, the finest series of detective novels ever… Read more
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I stopped at the corner drugstore and had a fifth cup of coffee. Marge, the blonde waitress, glanced sharply at me. “You look shaky, Mr. Caldwell,” she said. “Anybody’d think you was plannin’ to rob the bank.” It was a standard gag. I grinned. “Got a headache, I guess.” I left there, went across to… Read more
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I never got in this business, in cinema, to make horror movies. They arrived on my doorstep and I got typecast. Which was fine, I enjoy it, but I got into this business to make westerns. And the kind of westerns I used to see, they died. So that didn’t work out. John Carpenter Read more
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I placed the gun down on the table, went to the stove and poured myself a cup of coffee, returned to the table and sat down. My eyes remained fixed on the gun because there was something I had to remember about it. I’m not a gun fancier; I’ve had too much experience with them.… Read more
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Richard Hugo taught me that anyone with a desire to write, an ear for language and a bit of imagination could become a writer. He also, in a way, gave me permission to write about northern Montana. ~ James Welch Read more
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“Like a touch of bourbon—or some coffee?” “Coffee, please.” So we had what I had asked for, and chewed things around a while. Since he knew something about Fay’s background, I didn’t object when he started in—but some of it hurt. Her father had been a shack-town drunk and bootlegger and a few other things.… Read more
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