I was no longer troubled when he pulled out a machete in a crowded bar, tried to pick up schoolgirls, or threatened to scalp us, then rip off our heads and scoop out our brains.

There comes a stage at which a man would rather die cleanly by a bullet than by the unknown terror of the phantom in the forest.

In the world of the Machiguenga, sadness could be equated with anger, and anger was a perilous emotion, by which a foreigner could lose his life.

Enlightenment, and the death which comes before it, is the primary business of Varanasi.