There are two kinds of adventurers: those who go truly hoping to find adventure and those who go secretly hoping they won't.

To an American, land is solidity, goodness, and hope. American history is about land.

On the old highway maps of America, the main routes were red and the back roads blue. Now even the colors are changing.

Somewhere lives a bad Cajun cook, just as somewhere must live one last ivory-billed woodpecker. For me, I don't expect ever to encounter either one.

Beware thoughts that come in the night. They aren't turned properly; they come in askew, free of sense and restriction, deriving from the most remote of sources.

New ways of seeing can disclose new things: the radio telescope revealed quasars and pulsars, and the scanning electron microscope showed the whiskers of the dust mite. But turn the question around: Do new things make for new ways of seeing?