Poetry, philosophy, psychology, wisdom. Literature, yes literature.
Some more from this chilling but immensely special book –
“…and that night as they lay in that ground each heard, all heard, the dull boom of rock falling somewhere far below them in the awful darkness inside the world”.
“Why don’t you shoot that thing?, said Irving.
Sooner it dies the sooner it’ll rot, they said.
Irving spat. You aim to eat it…”.
“In a night so beclamored with the jackal-yapping of coyotes and the cries of owls the howl of that old dog wolf was the one sound they knew to issue from its right form, a solitary lobo, perhaps gray at the muzzle, hung like a marionette from the moon with his long mouth gibbering”.
“The dying man sang with great clarity and intention and the riders setting forth upcountry may have ridden more slowly the longer to hear him for they were of just these qualities themselves”.
“And so these parties divided upon the midnight plain, each passing back the way the other had come, pursuing as all travelers must inversions without end upon other men’s journeys”.
Said the expriest, ” Well you’ve the knack. More so than me. There’s little equity in the Lord’s gifts”.
“The expriest spat. I couldnt of learned it of 10 dutchmen. What about you? The kid shook his head.
No, said Tobin. The gifts of the Almighty are weighed and parceled out in a scale peculiar to himself. It is no fair accountin and I don’t doubt but what he’d be the first to admit it and you put the query to him boldface”
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