Addison

“Paradise is not a garden of bliss and changeless perfection where the lions lie down like lambs (what would they eat?) and the angels and cherubim and seraphim rotate in endless idiotic circles, like clockwork, about an equally inane and ludicrous -- however roseate -- unmoved mover. That particular painted fantasy of a realm beyond time and space which Aristotle and the church fathers tried to palm off on us has met, in modern times, only neglect and indifference passing on into oblivion it so richly deserved, while the paradise of which I write and wish to praise is with us yet, the the here and now, the actual, tangible, dogmatically real earth on which we stand.”
― Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire

“If my decomposing carcass helps nourish the roots of a juniper tree or the wings of a vulture—that is immortality enough for me. And as much as anyone deserves.”
― Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire

“Civilization flows; culture thickens and coagulates, like tired, sick, stifled blood.”
― Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire

“We are not our station in life. We are us—the sum of what we’ve done, what we want to do, and the people who we keep close.”
― Pierce Brown, Golden Son