That Dark Laboratory We Call The Soil.

Education, I Fear, Is Learning To See One Thing By Going Blind To Another.

For One Species To Mourn The Death Of Another Is A New Thing Under The Sun.

Man Always Kills The Thing He Loves, And So We The Pioneers Have Killed Our Wilderness. Some Say We Had To. Be That As It May, I Am Glad I Shall Never Be Young Without Wild Country To Be Young In. Of What Avail Are Forty Freedoms Without A Blank Spot On The Map?

I Shall Now Confess To You That None Of Those Three Trout Had To Be Beheaded, Or Folded Double, To Fit Their Casket. What Was Big Was Not The Trout, But The Chance. What Was Full Was Not My Creel, But My Memory.

There Is Value In Any Experience That Exercises Those Ethical Restraints Collectively Called Sportsmanship.