There was nothing but land; not a country at all, but the material out of which countries are made. — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
There seemed to be nothing to see; no fences, no creeks or trees, no hills or fields. If there was a road,… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
“The land belongs to the future, Carl; that's the way it seems to me. How many of the names on the county… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
This land was an enigma. It was like a horse that no one knows how to break to harness, that runs wild… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
We come and go, but the land is always here. And the people who love it and understand it are the people… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
The great fact was the land itself, which seemed to overwhelm the little beginnings of human society that struggled in its sombre… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
The great fact in life, the always possible escape from dullness, was the lake. The sun rose out of it, the day… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
They ravaged neither the rivers nor the forest, and if they irrigated, they took as little water as would serve their needs.… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
Of all the bewildering things about a new country, the absence of human landmarks is one of the most depressing and disheartening. — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
Success is less interesting than struggle. There is great pleasure in the effort. — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
“I only knew the schoolbooks said he "died in the wilderness, of a broken heart." "More than him has done that," said Antonia sadly,… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
“Have the last word ma'm," he said cheerfully. "It's a lady's privilege.” — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
"More than him has done that," said Antonia sadly, and the girls murmured assent. — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
Nothing mattered ... but writing books, and living the kind of life that made it possible to write them. — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
“Money and office and success are the consolations of impotence. Fortune turns kind to such solid people and lets them suck their bone in… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
But she still had that something which fires the imagination, could still stop one's breath for a moment by a look or gesture that… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
“You remember how homesick I used to get, and what long talks we used to have coming from school? We've someway always felt alike… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
“He placed this book in my grandmother's hands, looked at her entreatingly, and said, with an earnestness which I shall never forget, "Te-e-ach, te-e-ach… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
The sincerity of feeling that is possible between a writer and a reader is one of the finest things I know. — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
