It’s just that those things don’t seem to have the weight, the measureless beauty of countless sunsets and dawns, the simple grace and clear glory of nature.
It was, all in all, a grand example of interspecies lack of cooperation and the further illustration that might makes right. I stayed in the rest area, in my car, for another half an hour, until every...
It was a strange feeling, holding the rifle. It somehow removed him from everything around him. Without the rifle he had to fit in, to be part of it all, to understand it and use it - the woods, all o...
I couldn’t change the wind but perhaps I could reduce the effect of the wind on the boat.
I am full of tough hope
How could he? The
He was out of food, but he could look tomorrow and he could build a signal fire tomorrow and get more wood tomorrow . . . The
He reached now and ran one of Gretchen’s soft ears through his gnarled, bent fingers, like silk through barbwire. And I never saw it until I started with Gretchen. Got her to sit one day. The same day...
He had read somewhere that wolves could eat up to twenty pounds of meat in a single meal and he thought the dog was coming close. She . . . just . . . kept . . . eating.
He could not play the game without hope; could not play the game without a dream. They had taken it all away from him now, they had turned away from him and there was nothing for him now. The plane go...
A person can do practically anything for a short time if he doesn't think he has to do it for life.
Run
He wasn’t sure if it was good and clean or not. He
Which Brian had done. They had taken off and that was the last of the conversation. There had been the initial excitement, of course. He had never flown in a single-engine plane before and to be sitti...
This is the final book about Brian
There is always a solution. For everything. Always. Sometimes it isn't pretty and takes a little longer, but there is still a solution.
Then we knew he was lying.
The book is that is the good one is Woodsong and we are trying to finish it.
He moved to the trees. Where the bark was peeling from the trunks it lifted in tiny tendrils, almost fluffs. Brian plucked some of them loose, rolled them in his fingers. They seemed flammable, dry an...
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve 'This Side of Wild' Excerpt