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Claude Wheeler opened his eyes before the sun was up and vigorously shook his younger brother, who lay in the other half of the same bed.
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
Eyes
Vigorously
Half
Shook
Eye
Opened
Book
Younger
Lays
Bed
Sun
Wheeler
Brother
Claude
More quotes by Willa Cather
She had certain thoughts which were like companions, ideas which were like older and wiser friends.
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I don't want anyone reading my writing to think about style. I just want them to be in the story.
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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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Our tree became the talking tree of the fairy tale legends and stories nestled like birds in its branches.
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Life began for me, when I ceased to admire and began to remember.
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Old men are like that, you know. It makes them feel important to think they are in love with somebody.
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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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I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do. I feel as if this tree knows everything I ever think of when I sit here. When I come back to it, I never have to remind it of anything I begin just where I left off.
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It is easy to pity when once one's vanity has been tickled.
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No nation has ever produced great art that has not made a high art of cookery, because art appeals primarily to the senses.
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Only a Woman, divine, could know all that a woman can suffer.
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Let people go on talking as they like, and we will go on living as we think best.
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Men travel faster now, but I do not know if they go to better things.
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The stupid believe that to be truthful is easy only the artist, the great artist, knows how difficult it is.
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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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Ah! the terror and the delight of that moment when first we fear ourselves! Until then we have not lived.
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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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There was a new kind of strength in the gravity of her face, and her colors still gave her that look of deep-seated health and ardor.
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Even the wicked get worse than they deserve.
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From two ears that had grown side by side, the grains of one shot up joyfully into the light, projecting themselves into the future, and the grains from the other lay still in the earth and rotted and nobody knew why.
Willa Cather