True solitude is a din of birdsong, seething leaves, whirling colors, or a clamor of tracks in the snow. – Edward Hoagland
The question of whether its Gods green earth is not at center stage, except in the sense that if so, one is reminded with some regularity that He may be dying. – Edward Hoagland
In order to really enjoy a dog, one doesnt merely try to train him to be semi-human. The point of it is to open oneself to the possibility of becoming partly a dog. – 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