Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
Er, I say, are you going to be able to get me out?
Climbing is one of the few sports in which the arena (the cliffs, the mountains and their specific routes) acquire a notoriety that outpopulates, outshines and outlives the actual athletes.
It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.
Abundant choice doesn't force us to look for the absolute best of everything. It allows us to find the extremes in those things we really care about, whether that means great coffee, jeans cut wide across the hips, or a spouse who shares your zeal for mountaineering, Zen meditation, and science fiction.
Experience comes from bad judgment.
Never measure the height of a mountain until you have reached the top. Then you will see how low it was.
In no other pursuit is the best or the worst in a man brought out as in mountaineering. An old friend of civilization may be a useless companion on a mountain.
We took risks. We knew we took them. Things have come out against us. We have no cause for complaint.
Everything - even mountains, rivers, plants and trees - should be your teacher.
The mountains, the forest, and the sea, render men savage; they develop the fierce, but yet do not destroy the human.
Climbing at altitude is like hitting your head against a brick wall - it's great when you stop.
Half the charm of climbing mountains is born in visions preceding this experience - visions of what is mysterious, remote, inaccessible.
My father considered a walk among the mountains as the equivalent of churchgoing.
Climbing is, above all, a matter of integrity
I am too slow to be a good climber, so I film instead.
The first question which you will ask and which I must try to answer is this; What is the use of climbing Mount Everest? and my answer must at once be, it is no use. There is not the slightest prospect of any gain whatsoever.
The fact that I'm three months pregnant doesn't change anything.
Risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
I do recall that El Cap seemed to be in much better condition than I was.
John Wayne never wore Lycra.
The reason it was so scary was that there was only one climber capable of rescuing us, and that was Layton Kor, and he was in Colorado.
As I hammered in the last bolt and staggered over the rim, it was not at all clear to me who was the conqueror and who was the conquered. I do recall that El Cap seemed to be in much better condition than I was.
They say you can't do it, but sometimes it doesn't always work.
Just a reminder - a guidebook is no substitute for skill, experience, judgment and lots of tension.
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