The past is only the present become invisible and mute; and because it is invisible and mute, its memorized glances and its murmurs are infinitely precious. We are tomorrow's past. — Mary Webb Copy Share Image
There is usually no dreamer so unworldly as the anthologist. He wanders in a vast garden, lost in wonder, unable to decide often between… — Mary Webb Copy Share
There is surely no more unselfish person than the anthologist. For while all we others are striving to ensure our own immortality with eagerness,… — Mary Webb Copy Share
But when you dwell in a house you mislike, you will look out of a window a deal more than those that are content… — Mary Webb Copy Share
For the world is founded and built up on death, and the reality of death is neither to be questioned nor feared. Death is… — Mary Webb Copy Share
“I'd laboured over it a long while, and labour brings a thing near the heart's core.” — Mary Webb Copy Share
It made me gladsome to be getting some education, it being like a big window opening. — Mary Webb Copy Share
“[...]we are all as full of echoes as a rocky wood--echoes of the past, reflex echoes of the future, and echoes of the soil… — Mary Webb Copy Share
“I've thought since that when folk grumble about this and that and be not happy, it is not the fault of creation, that is… — Mary Webb Copy Share
Green is the fresh emblem of well founded hopes. In blue the spirit can wander, but in green it can rest. — Mary Webb Copy Share
“He was ever a strong man, which is almost the same, times, as to say a man with little time for kindness. For if… — Mary Webb Copy Share
The love of nature is a passion for those in whom it once lodges. It can never be quenched. It cannot change. It is… — Mary Webb Copy Share
“You wasn't made like watch-dogs and house-cats and cows. You was made a fox, and you be a fox, and its queer-like to me,… — Mary Webb Copy Share
