“The campus, an academy of trees, under which some hand, the wind's I guess, had scattered the pale light of thousands of spring beauties, petals stained with pink veins; secret, blooming for themselves. We sat among them. Your long fingers,… — Ruth Stone Copy Share Image
“Interviewer: The other day, when we first talked, you said that you felt that, when you were writing, you were often following invisible patterns.… — Ruth Stone Copy Share Image
“Stone: Yes, we are everything, every experience we've ever had, and in some of us, a lot of it translates and makes patterns, poems.… — Ruth Stone Copy Share Image
If I heard a girl crying help I would go to save her; But you hardly ever hear those words. Dear children, you must… — Ruth Stone Copy Share Image
“The campus, an academy of trees, under which some hand, the wind's I guess, had scattered the pale light of thousands of spring beauties,… — Ruth Stone Copy Share Image
