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The emptiness was intense, like the stillness in a great factory when the machinery stops running.

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
Like
Factories
Stops
Stillness
Emptiness
Intense
Silence
Running
Factory
Great
Machinery

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The world is always full of brilliant youth which fades into grey and embittered middle age: the first flowering takes everything. The great men are those who have developed slowly, or who have been able to survive the glamour of their early florescence and to go on learning from life.
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Life was so short that it meant nothing at all unless it were continually reinforced by something that endured unless the shadows of individual existence came and went against a background that held together.
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The end is nothing the road is all.
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Too much information is rather deadening.
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Men are all right for friends, but as soon as you marry them they turn into cranky old fathers, even the wild ones.
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youth, when it is hurt, likes to feel itself betrayed.
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life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose.
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The trouble is you almost have to marry a man before you can find out the sort of wife he needs and usually it's exactly the sort you are not.
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No one can build his security upon the nobleness of another person.
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The fact that I was a girl never damaged my ambitions to be a pope or an emperor.
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To note an artist's limitations is but to define his talent.
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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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The land belongs to the future.
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It does not matter much whom we live with in this world, but it matters a great deal whom we dream of.
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Our tree became the talking tree of the fairy tale legends and stories nestled like birds in its branches.
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Ugly accidents happen . . . always have and always will. But the failures are swept back into the pile and forgotten. They don`t leave any lasting scar in the world, and they don`t affect the future. The things that last are the good things. The people who forge ahead and do something, they really count.
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Thea was still under the belief that public opinion could be placated that if you clucked often enough, the hens would mistake you for one of themselves.
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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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It's all very well to tell us to forgive our enemies our enemies can never hurt us very much. But oh, what about forgiving our friends?
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New things are always ugly.
Willa Cather