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On the farm the weather was the great fact, and men's affairs went on underneath it, as the streams creep under the ice.
Willa Cather
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Willa Cather
Age: 73 †
Born: 1873
Born: December 7
Died: 1947
Died: April 24
Author
Biographer
Essayist
Journalist
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Poet
Writer
Willa Sibert Cather
Men
Affairs
Streams
Creep
Weather
Creeps
Affair
Farming
Went
Underneath
Fact
Farm
Facts
Farms
Great
Ice
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All Southern women wished of their menfolk was simply to be 'like Paris handsome and like Hector brave'.
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To note an artist's limitations is but to define his talent.
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The two friends stood for a few moments on the windy street corner, not speaking a word, as two travelers, who have lost their way, sometimes stand and admit their perplexity in silence. (O Pioneers!)
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Elsewhere the sky is the roof of the world but here the earth was the floor of the sky.
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youth, when it is hurt, likes to feel itself betrayed.
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I suppose there were moonless nights and dark ones with but a silver shaving and pale stars in the sky, but I remember them all as flooded with the rich indolence of a full moon.
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Only solitary men know the full joys of frienship. Others have their family but to a solitary and an exile, his friends are everything.
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William Tavener never heeded ominous forecasts in the domestic horizon, and he never looked for a storm until it broke.
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A child's attitude toward everything is an artist's attitude.
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Merely having seen the season change in a country gave one the sense of having been there for a long time.
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Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again.
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I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered –about her teeth for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things she had lost, *but whose inner glow has faded*. Whatever else was gone, Antonia had not lost the fire of life.
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In Haverford on the Platte the townspeople still talk of Lucy Gayheart.
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After all, the supreme virtue in all art is soul, perhaps it is the only thing which gives art a right to be.
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The irregular and intimate quality of things made entirely by the human hand.
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Look at my papa here he's been dead all these years, and yet he is more real to me than almost anybody else. He never goes out of my life. I talk to him and consult him all the time. The older I grow, the better I know him and the more I understand him.
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Of course Nebraska is a storehouse of literary material. Everywhere is a storehouse of literary material. If a true artist were born in a pigpen and raised in a sty, he would still find plenty of inspiration for his work. The only need is the eye to see.
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Love itself draws on a woman nearly all the bad luck in the world
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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. They begin to tell you what's sensible and what's foolish, and want you to stick at home all the time. I prefer to be foolish when I feel like it, and be accountable to nobody.
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The more observing ones may have seen, but discerning people are usually discreet and often kind, for we usually bleed a little before we begin to discern.
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