...Who has seen the bison run
Knows the end they're headed for
Where the greener grasses beckon
Somewhere far beyond, I reckon...
And I'll see them nevermore.
    — Pony Antone

We're all born liars, every last one of us. So let's just hope you always lie in the cause of truth. You know what I mean?
      — Harvey Olsen

Cities shall grow, flourish, rise to prominence and then crumble to decay...only to be unearthed by people who will not understand us in the slightest. Let us pray they give us more credit than we're due.
      — Charles St. George Stanley

I had to bury the truth to come here. I had to forget it all so it would die. I keep the truth out there in my garden.
      — Babe Watkins

"I never had ceased being fascinated by one of Pony's comments — that no story truly ends; that it is somehow connected to another and another and another, sown by tumbling stars, fertile in the harshest climates, evolving in the least likely ways; that you cannot segregate yourself from even the most remote and alien of stories in this absurdly polarized world because it will prove to be part of yours."

"Under the spell of the hill, the summer air had a special fragrance. After nightfall, the hill was like the floating island of the Laputians — the universe above, the lights of Wendellton below, a constant breeze that left the impression you were moving if you closed your eyes, and the supple, scented darkness in between. Every shade in the sky seemed to be flowing against gravity toward the deep black above us, undamming the heavens so stars could flood the night in a cosmos newly arranged and spangled with dust from a magnificent race."