Quotes from Gary Paulsen

to him in legal terms how all that he lived in was coming apart—and the breaking and shattering of all the solid things. His home, his life—all the solid things. Divorce. A breaking word

I am not supposed to see this God. No person is supposed to see this. How can You let this happen?

unstable, the

Hello to you too, he peed. Then he got into the canoe and slid off.

He moved around, did his toilet—drawing a picture in the snow when he did—and was amazed how well the boots worked, kept his feet warm and comfortable.

He was what he was, and if he was wrong or had mental problems, that was still the way he was, the way he had to live.

He decided to stop every hour for ten minutes. Derek had told him once that that was what the military did on long marches—a ten-minute break every hour

He had not slept the night before except to doze kneeling next to Derek, and he had worked hard all day on the raft getting it ready, and when the sun went down and the darkness caught him he could not believe how much he wanted to sleep.

Then she dropped like a stone and was asleep when her head hit the ground, sound asleep, gone. Brian smiled and squatted by the fire and studied the dog sleeping.

It was all new, the bond, and he wondered how he could have lived his whole life and never had this, never had this closeness with another species, with a dog. It had been a great loss. He decided he would never be without a dog again.

All the planning in the world, men, can't compare to perfectly timed good luck.

In some way, the dog filled a hole in his life, filled a loneliness he hadn't even known existed, and he wondered if it had always been the same for men; if somewhere back in time in a cave a man took a wolf pup and sat him down and thought, There, my life is better now.

On those occasions when I missed - I think more often than not - he would watch the duck fly away, turn to me and give me a look of such uncompromising pity and scorn that I would feel compelled to apologize and make excuses. The wind moved the barrel, or A drop of water hit my eye when I shot. Of course he did not believe me but would turn back, sitting there waiting for the next shot so I could absolve myself.

But it was a mental thing. He had gotten depressed thinking about how they hadn't found him yet, and when he was busy and had something to do the depression seemed to leave.

Brindled, patches of hair gone, one ear folded over ad the other standing straight and notched from fighting. He didn't seem to be any particular breed. Just big and rangy, right on the edge of ugly, though I would come to think of him as beautiful. He was Airedale crossed with hound crossed with alligator.

Whoever says youth is the best time in your life has cash in hand and can't remember being poor.

The difference between being smart and being really smart is looking at things in a way no one would ever expect.

Do what you can as you can. Trouble, problems, will come no matter what you do, and you must respond as they come.

We don't like to think of ourselves as prey—it is a lessening thought—but the truth is that in our arrogance and so-called knowledge we forget that we are not unique. We are part of nature as much as other animals, and some animals—sharks, fever-bearing mosquitoes, wolves and bear, to name but a few—perceive us as a food source, a meat supply, and simply did not get the memo about how humans are superior.

and that's when it hit me: It's all a joke. With the possible exception of geometry, which has too many sharp edges, and health classes, which make you sick, it's all a joke. All of it. At least now. But I've only felt that way for a short time, so I might be wrong.

The dogs. They were the answer. He could not trust himself, couldn't see anything to help him, but he could trust the dogs. Or he thought he could. He would let them run and decide where to go.

My name is Brian Robeson,' he said. Then he saw that his stew was done, the peach whip almost done, and he waved to it with his hand. 'Would you like something to eat?

A flip of some giant coin and he was the loser.

Of all the dogs I have had, Fred was the closest to being actually nuclear i his capacity for destruction. None of it was done with evil intent. He was a wonderfully happy pup and adult dog - inventive and with a great sense of humor, more of which later - but he was also amazingly persistent. Once he started a project, he simply would not stop until it was done.