True solitude is a din of birdsong, seething leaves, whirling colors, or a clamor of tracks in the snow. – Edward Hoagland
Silence is exhilarating at first – as noise is – but there is a sweetness to silence outlasting exhilaration, akin to the sweetness of listening and the velvet of sleep. – Edward Hoagland
There arent many irritations to match the condescension which a woman metes out to a man who she believes has loved her vainly for the past umpteen years. – Edward Hoagland
To relive the relationship between owner and slave we can consider how we treat our cars and dogs — a dog exercising a somewhat similar leverage on our mercies and an automobile being comparable in value to a slave in those days. – Edward Hoagland