My life, I realize suddenly, is July. Childhood is June, and old age is August, but here it is, July, and my life, this year, is July inside of July. — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
“I'm surprised when I walk right into yet another abandoned hunters' camp. Tattered plastic sheeting still hangs askew here and there. Blackened aerosol cans of Cheez Whiz sit in the fire pit, which sits in the middle of the trail. Assorted Styro-ware. Rotten leather boots. Where are these people? Are they back in civilization now, appearing to all observers to… — Rick Bass Copy Share
Ive lost much of my heart and the spark or fire that once created, or produced, the art of fiction. — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
“Sometimes I imagine I can feel the earth pause in its rotation, can feel it pause and look at us as if wondering, Just… — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
The heart of it all is mystery, and science is at best only the peripheral trappings to that mystery--a ragged barbed-wire fence through which… — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
“Is this how it is for a species that senses it is going extinct? Is there a feeling of loneliness, or unease, each morning,… — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
The natural world is the only one we have. To try to not see the natural world - to put on blinders and avoid… — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
Live long enough and all weaknesses will be illuminated, but again perhaps that is not all bad for cannot they then begin to become… — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
When you sign on to be an activist in northwest Montana, people in the grocery store will avoid eye contact, particularly if they're hanging… — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
“We try and map boundaries, and to string fence - we try to set up a border between life and death, between man and… — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
Sometimes I perceive that there is a stillness and a wholeness in the world or in some portion or corner or fragment of the… — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
“You can't manufacture love: you can't build it back up, like a fire. You start out with a certain amount, and then you hope… — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
The seams, the laminae between the various worlds the past present and future as well as the living and the nonliving may not be… — Rick Bass Copy Share Image
