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The air and the earth interpenetrated in the warm gusts of spring the soil was full of sunlight, and the sunlight full of red dust. The air one breathed was saturated with earthy smells, and the grass under foot had a reflection of the blue sky in it.

Willa Cather

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Willa Cather
Age: 73 †
Born: 1873
Born: December 7
Died: 1947
Died: April 24
Author
Biographer
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Willa Sibert Cather
Blue
Soil
Gusts
Air
Grass
Earthy
Spring
Red
Breathed
Feet
Dust
Saturated
Full
Smell
Springtime
Art
Reflection
Smells
Earth
Warm
Sunlight
Sky
Foot

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Sometimes, I ventured, it doesn't occur to boys that their mother was ever young and pretty. . . I couldn't stand it if you boys were inconsiderate, or thought of her as if she were just somebody who looked after you. You see I was very much in love with your mother once, and I know there's nobody like her.
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A creative writer can do his best only with what lies within the range and character of his deepest sympathies.
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Art is a concrete and personal and rather childish thing after all - no matter what people do to graft it into science and make it sociological and psychological it is no good at all unless it is let alone to be itself - a game of make-believe, or re-production, very exciting and delightful to people who have an ear for it or an eye for it.
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I wondered if the life that was right for one was ever right for two!
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When we look back, the only things we cherish are those which in some way met our original want the desire which formed in us in early youth, undirected, and of its own accord.
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Art and religion (they are the same thing, in the end, of course) have given man the only happiness he has ever had.
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A soup like this is not the work of one man. It is the result of a constantly refined tradition. There are nearly a thousand years of history in this soup.
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Paris is a hard place to leave, even when it rains incessantly and one coughs continually from the dampness.
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Miracles surround us at every turn if we but sharpen our perceptions of them.
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Now I understood that the same road was to bring us together again. Whatever we had missed, we possessed together the precious, the incommunicable past.
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People have to snatch at happiness when they can, in this world. It is always easier to lose than to find.
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Only the stupid and the phlegmatic should teach.
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It is a tragic hour, that hour when we are finally driven to reckon with ourselves, when every avenue of mental distraction has been cut off and our own life and all its ineffaceable failures closes about us like the walls of that old torture chamber of the Inquisition.
Willa Cather
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The heart, when it is too much alive, aches for that brown earth, and ecstasy has no fear of death.
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Every fine story must leave in the mind of the sensitive reader an intangible residuum of pleasure, a cadence, a quality of voice that is exclusively the writer's own, individual, unique.
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There was only - spring itself, the throb of it, the light restlessness, the vital essence of it everywhere in the sky, in the swift clouds, in the pale sunshine, and in the warm high wind - rising suddenly, sinking suddenly, impulsive ... If I had been tossed down blindfold on that red prairie, I should have known that it was spring.
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The soul cannot be humbled by fasts and prayer it must be broken by mortal sin to experience forgiveness of sin and rise to a state of grace. Otherwise, religion is nothing but dead logic.
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Success is less interesting than struggle. There is great pleasure in the effort.
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There was nothing but land not a country at all, but the material out of which countries are made.
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If there were no girls like them in the world, there would be no poetry
Willa Cather