Sublime

care of it than he did his horse,” Cane said.

What struck me particularly about him was the mixture of a sort of innate natural ferocity with a similarly innate nobility—a mixture such as I have never come across in any other person.

Those old wild images included a crucial truth. Man is a monster. And he is all the more a monster because one part of him is perfect.

Townsfolk would talk about him for years, about how he went back out on his own to hunt the bandits down that very same afternoon, barely taking the time to swallow some cold hash and trade in his old plug for a fresh one at Jim Flannery’s livery, talking gibberish about having an important appointment at some crossroads somewhere.

and he had white hair and a smile so enthusiastic it hinted at actual anarchy.

friend over in Fayette County.”