There came a time when you realized that moving on was pointless. That you took yourself with you wherever you went.

He lay back, put his arm over his eyes, and tried to hold onto the anger, because the anger made him feel brave. A brave man could think. A coward couldn't.

It's a hard life if you don't weaken.

When you're twenty-one, life is a roadmap. It's only when you get to twenty-five or so that you begin to suspect you've been looking at the map upside down, and not until you're forty are you entirely sure. By the time you're sixty, take it from me, you're fucking lost.

I assure you I'll be in Pocatello the rest of my life, ... I'm never moving again.

Go. Go to your beautiful dances, your beautiful ceremonies. And we will bury our dead.