Quotes from Gary Paulsen

The hatchet. The key to it all. Nothing without the hatchet. Just that would take all his thanks. And

I'm sorry. I was just running them. Running the dogs. I swallowed more soup and looked at the sky. The cold air was so clear the stars seemed to be falling to the ground. Like you could walk right. . . over . . . there and pick them up just lying on the snow. I couldn't come back.

it was like having a pet nuclear device.

He did not know how long it took, but later he looked back on this time of crying in the corner of the dark cave and thought of it as when he learned the most important rule of survival, which was that feeling sorry for yourself didn't work.

Then we knew he was lying.

Tomorrow. He watched the flames and smiled. Tomorrow I'll see. All things come tomorrow.

All I need is some barbecue sauce," he said aloud, grease dripping down his chin. "And a Coke . . .

There. I've poked my leg, rolled down a bank and been hit in the head with the canoe. All simple things. All fixable things.

he wasn't sure if it was good and clean or not. He

Sometimes it would be nice if life just kept happening the way it's happening, if things got to a good place and just stayed there, didn't change.

As if my whole life up to that time had somehow been safe and now I would ruin all that because, you know, catamarans flip over.

H)e had learned the primary rule about danger. It would come if it would come. You could try to be ready for it, you could plan on it, you could even expect it, but it would come when it wanted to come.

He had forgotten the most important thing about living in the wilderness, the one thing he'd thought he would never forget-expect the unexpected. What you didn't think would get you, would get you. Plan on the worst and be happy when it didn't come.

Never assume anything, expect the unexpected, be ready for everything all the time. And

Of course, the sea has tried to kill me on several occasions, has timed itself to coincide with my stupidity and put an end to me. Here in this beautiful lagoon, with time to think of things, and with serenity, some of the madness comes back to me now as I attempt the death-defying feat of eating a second Oreo with my tea.

It must have been a snapper

The mosquitoes. Tearing at him, clouds of them, the awful, ripping, thick masses of the small monsters trying to bleed him dry.

The thing with dying was to try to not die and make death take you with surprise.

Y)ou've got to do more than what's expected if you want to get ahead.

Getting out of trouble is a whole lot more of a hassle than staying out of trouble.

I wish I had a dollar for every hour I've spent in the library, he always says. I have to agree- we'd probably never have to worry about money again.

Y)ou didn't want somebody running around smiling and saying, 'We'll get by,' when the house was on fire; you wanted somebody to yell 'fire!

All I need is some barbecue sauce," he said aloud, grease dripping down his chin. "And a Coke . . ." When

I fell off a dogsled down a frozen waterfall and landed on sharp ice on a kneecap. It was so agonizing, I thought, seriously, that my heart would stop. But I found that my whole dog team loved and worried about me so much, they curved downstream and worked back up to me to surround me as I lay clutching my lacerated knee, whimpering and pushing their warm bodies against me. I remember the love, the dog love, much more than the shattered knee. . . .