I Come From Des Moines. Someone Had

I Turned To My Own Bunk And Examined It With A Kind Of Appalled Fascination. If The Mattress Stains Were Anything To Go By, A Previous User Had Not So Much Suffered From Incontinence As Rejoiced In It. He Had Evidently Included The Pillow In His Celebrations.

That's The Trouble With Losing Your Mind; By The Time It's Gone, It's Too Late To Get It Back.

Our Instinct May Be To See The Impossibility Of Tracking Everything Down As Frustrating, Dispiriting, Perhaps Even Appalling, But It Can Just As Well Be Viewed As Almost Unbearably Exciting. We Live On A Planet That Has A More Or Less Infinite Capacity To Surprise. What Reasoning Person Could Possibly Want It Any Other Way?

I Don't Know Whether I'm Misanthropic. It Seems To Me I'm Constantly Disappointed. I'm Very Easily Disappointed. Disappointed In The Things That People Do; Disappointed In The Things That People Construct. I Want Things To Be Better All The Time.

But I Got A Great Deal Else From The Experience. I Learned To Pitch A Tent And Sleep Beneath The Stars. For A Brief, Proud Period I Was Slender And Fit. I Gained A Profound Respect For The Wilderness And Nature And The Benign Dark Power Of Woods. I Understand Now, In A Way I Never Did Before, The Colossal Scale Of The World. I Found Patience And Fortitude That I Didn't Know I Had. I Discovered An America That Millions Of People Scarcely Know Exists. I Made A Friend. I Came Home.