JON KRAKAUER

As I point out in the very first pages of 'Into the Wild,' I approached this book not as a normal, you know, unbiased journalist.

Antarctica has this mythic weight. It resides in the collective unconscious of so many people, and it makes this huge impact, just like outer space. It's like going to the moon.

When I was 23, I went to Alaska by myself into the glaciers of the coast range and climbed a mountain by myself. It was incredibly reckless, incredibly stupid. But I was lucky. And I survived, and I came back to tell my story.

I never studied writing, but I'd always been a reader and had a secret fantasy about being a writer.

The pieces I've written for 'Outside' magazine are definitely my best work, and they're virtually all about the outdoors.

There's something about being afraid, about being small, about enforced humility that draws me to climbing.

Military investigations are designed not to find anyone guilty.

Short form media is reductionist by nature.

I knew that you couldn't make a living simply writing about the outdoors, so I made an effort from the beginning of my freelance career to write about other subjects.

Once you believe that God is speaking directly to you, there is no discussion.

I'm intrigued by fanatics - people who are seduced by the promise, or the illusion, of the absolute.

I've had a lot of crappy jobs, but one of my favorites was working as a commercial fisherman in Alaska. What I loved about it was, you got paid for what you caught.

Heaven, for me, is one focused project - it's like a weird form of autism.

Antarctica is a very alien environment, and you can't survive here more than minutes if you're not equipped properly and doing the right thing all the time.

When I went to Everest, I underestimated things. I just didn't know what altitude could do. Or the cold - I especially didn't appreciate the cold. It can be just debilitating, and things can happen so quickly.

I really enjoy researching, and for almost every piece, I research enough to write a book.

I think part of the appeal of Antarctica is experiencing some sort of power, the forces of the natural world.

Almost every magazine piece I've ever written, I felt like I haven't done it justice, like it was just a gloss.

There is nothing glamorous or romantic about war. It's mostly about random pointless death and misery.

You can get a lawyer with two months off or a New York socialite who wants to play at being Lewis and Clark and put them up there, but Everest is still in charge; it can still kick butt.

You get a compound fracture in Colorado where I live, and you can probably be in a hospital within a matter of hours, certainly within a day.

Most friendly fire incidents aren't investigated properly because of neglect or a natural inclination to cover up the embarrassing fact that they killed one of their own.

When I start any book, I have no idea what I'm going to do.

The way to Everest is not a Yellow Brick Road.

Military investigations are designed not to find anyone guilty. And you can't investigate up the chain of command, which is a huge impediment.