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Pity is sworn servant unto love: And this be sure, wherever it begin To make the way, it lets your master in.
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
Sure
Lets
Way
Unto
Make
Servant
Love
Wherever
Pity
Master
Masters
Begin
Sworn
More quotes by Willa Cather
Happy people do a great deal for their friends.
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Late one brilliant April afternoon Professor Lucius Wilson stood at the head of Chestnut Street, looking about him with the pleased air of a man of taste who does not very often get to Boston.
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It is cremated youth. It is all yours--no one gave it to you.
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For ever and anon the soul becomes weary of the conventions that are not of it, and with a single stroke shatters the civilized lies with which it is unable to cope, and the strong arm reaches out and takes by force what it cannot win by cunning.
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People can be lovers and enemies at the same time, you know.
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Artistic growth is, more than it is anything else, a refining of the sense of truthfulness.
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Some people's lives are affected by what happens to their person or their property but for others fate is what happens to their feelings and their thoughts -- that and nothing more.
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Religion is different from everything else because in religion seeking is finding.
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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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Only a Woman, divine, could know all that a woman can suffer.
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That is happiness to be dissolved into something complete and great.
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If there were no girls like them in the world, there would be no poetry
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A man long accustomed to admire his wife in general, seldom pauses to admire her in a particular gown or attitude, unless his attention is directed to her by the appreciative gaze of another man.
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The summer moon hung full in the sky. For the time being it was the great fact of the world.
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They ravaged neither the rivers nor the forest, and if they irrigated, they took as little water as would serve their needs. The land and all that it bore they treated with consideration not attempting to improve it, they never desecrated it.
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Miracles surround us at every turn if we but sharpen our perceptions of them.
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She had only to stand in the orchard, to put her hand on a little crab tree and look up at the apples, to make you feel the goodness of planting and tending and harvesting at last.
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Pittsburgh was even more vital, more creative, more hungry for culture than New York. Pittsburgh was the birthplace of my writing.
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Art, it seems to me, should simplify finding what conventions of form and what detail one can do without and yet preserve the spirit of the whole - so that all that one has suppressed and cut away is there to the reader's consciousness as much as if it were in type on the page.
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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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