You should never turn down the offer of another man__ story,_ the fox persisted, moving off a little further into the trees ahead. __tories are the only thing that separates us from the animals after all.

Hungry for beautiful words, the fox comes rooting around in the hedge, almost too close to the fire. He reads my mind with one glance and is gone. All my poetry is now trotting around the bushes inside him, maybe some day to be partly eaten or left to rot. He understands being alive for as long as he can be, and does not worry about why, or what might happen afterwards.

There's a big difference on being wise and being crafty. The former is the attribute of God, and the latter is that of Satan.

Better to be slapped with the truth than kissed with a lie.

T.H. moved through the forest like the melody of a well-known song, in perfect harmony with his surroundings.

I did not want to think about people. I wanted the trees, the scents and colors, the shifting shadows of the wood, which spoke a language I understood. I wished I could simply disappear in it, live like a bird or a fox through the winter, and leave the things I had glimpsed to resolve themselves without me.