“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. Th...” — Norman Maclean Quote

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.”

“Yet even in the loneliness of the canyon I knew there were others like me who had brothers they did not understand but wanted to help. We are probably those referred to as "our brother's keepers," possessed of one of the oldest and possible one of the most futile and certainly one of the most haunting instincts. It will not let us go.”

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.”

“At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear.”

“At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear. It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us. You can love completely without complete understanding.”

“I don't think you have time to waste not writing because you are afraid you won't be good enough at it, and I don't think you have time to waste on someone who does not respond to you with kindness and respect. You don't want to spend your time around people who make you hold your breath. You can't fill up when you're holding your breath. And writing is about filling up, filling up when you are empty, letting images and ideas and smells run down like water--just as writing is also about dealing with the emptiness.”

“History always wins.”

“I'm Italian; I take my time. We're not really fast. We're very slow. I had my first child at 40, my second child at 45, James Bond at 50. I'm so curious as to what's next!”

“Always, time is our worst enemy, stealing away what is most precious to me.”

“A norma d'Universo le grandi stragi non son neppure un brivido, sebbene l'Universo della umana memoria protesti. E s'erano affidati alla carta, al legno, alle pietre, queste materie più salde di un corpo umano, perché l'umanità civile continuasse. Ma ecco scritture, intagli, colori, violentemente sbaragliati e inceneriti, mentre l'ingegnoso che li concepì è ridotto un meschino senza volto, scacciato dal sasso dove univa i piedi tremando, all'orlo di una voragine.”