The mountain gives forth what is mountain takes back what is mountain.
A friend is no friend when that friend spurns gold only to come to love gold.
His friend is gold, and so his heart is dust; his back torn by machetes.
B. Traven was a man who valued friends because his only friends were Traven Torsvan, Hal Croves, and Ret Marut, who died shot in the neck by mexican bandits and who left behind a wife and a peach tree farm and the prospects of living a life more ordinary.
To all the mountain was a friend.
That is why the old prospector laughs: the mountain his friend knows how to recompense.
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