When I Start Any Book, I Have

Antarctica Has This Mythic Weight. It Resides In The Collective Unconscious Of So Many People, And It Makes This Huge Impact, Just Like Outer Space. It's Like Going To The Moon.

Most Climbers Aren't In Fact Deranged, They're Just Infected With A Particularly Virulent Strain Of The Human Condition.

Those Who Would Assail The Book Of Mormon Should Bear In Mind That Its Veracity Is No More Dubious Than The Veracity Of The Bible, Say, Or The Qur'an, Or The Sacred Texts Of Most Other Religions. The Latter Texts Simply Enjoy The Considerable Advantage Of Having Made Their Public Debut In The Shadowy Recesses Of The Ancient Past, And Are Thus Much Harder To Refute.

Above The Comforts Of Base Camp, The Expedition In Fact Became An Almost Calvinistic Undertaking. The Ratio Of Misery To Pleasure Was Greater By An Order Of Magnitude Than Any Mountain I'd Been On; I Quickly Came To Understand That Climbing Everest Was Primarily About Enduring Pain. And In Subjecting Ourselves To Week After Week Of Toil, Tedium And Suffering, It Struck Me That Most Of Us Were Probably Seeking Above All Else, Something Like A State Of Grace.

Weeping...betraying A Sense Of Loss So Huge And Irreparable That The Mind Balks At Taking Its Measure.