Somewhere beyond the sink-hole, past the magnolia, under the live oaks, a boy and a yearling ran side by side, and were… — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
The individual man is transitory, but the pulse of life and of growth goes on after he is gone, buried under a… — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
It seemed a strange thing to him, when earth was earth and rain was rain, that scrawny pines should grow in the… — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
“This, then, was hunger. This was what his mother had meant when she had said, "We'll all go hongry." He had laughed, for he… — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
You can't change a man, no-ways. By the time his mummy turns him loose and he takes up with some innocent woman and marries… — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
Life is strong stuff, some of us can bear more of it than others. — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
Who owns Cross Creek? The red-birds, I think, more than I, for they will have their nests even in the face of delinquent mortgages..It… — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
“You've seed how things goes in the world o' men. You've knowed men to be low-down and mean. You've seed ol' Death at his… — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
For myself, the Creek satisfies a thing that had gone hungry and unfed since childhood days. I am often lonely. Who is not? But… — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
“I do not understand how anyone can live without one small place of enchantment to turn to.” — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
Writing is agony for me. I work at it eight hours every day, hoping to get six pages, but I am satisfied with three. — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
No man should have proprietary rights over land who does not use that land wisely and lovingly. — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
“Perhaps all men were moved against their will. A man ordered his life, and then an obscurity of circumstance sent him down a road… — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
“He wrote: Dear ollever; yor ol twinkk has dun gode up the rivver. im gladd. yor friend jody.” — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Copy Share Image
