But she still had that something which fires the imagination, could still stop one's breath for a moment by a look or… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
Our tree became the talking tree of the fairy tale; legends and stories nestled like birds in its branches. — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
She had only to stand in the orchard, to put her hand on a little crab tree and look up at the… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do. I feel as… — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
The trees and shrubbery seemed well-groomed and social, like pleasant people. — Willa Cather Copy Share Image
The great pines stand at a considerable distance from each other. Each tree grows alone, murmurs alone, thinks alone. They do notintrude… — 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
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
