Willa Cather
Willa Cather
Willa Sibert Catherwas an American author who achieved recognition for her novels of frontier life on the Great Plains, including O Pioneers!, The Song of the Lark, and My Ántonia. In 1923 she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for One of Ours, a novel set during World War I...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth7 December 1873
CountryUnited States of America
anxious detail fight hard landscape rare scarcity trees visit
Trees were so rare in that country, and they had to make such a hard fight to grow, that we used to feel anxious about them, and visit them as if they were persons. It must have been the scarcity of detail in that tawny landscape that made detail so precious.
land rivers water
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.
land littles waste
The great fact was the land itself, which seemed to overwhelm the little beginnings of human society that struggled in its sombre wastes.
running horse land
This land was an enigma. It was like a horse that no one knows how to break to harness, that runs wild and kicks things to pieces.
doors land lakes
The great fact in life, the always possible escape from dullness, was the lake. The sun rose out of it, the day began there; it was like an open door that nobody could shut. The land and all its dreariness could never close in on you. You had only to look at the lake, and you knew you would soon be free.
land
The land belongs to the future.
land people pioneers
We come and go, but the land is always here. And the people who love it and understand it are the people who own it - for a little while.
feet land fiction
Let your fiction grow out of the land beneath your feet.
country land made
There was nothing but land; not a country at all, but the material out of which countries are made.
country stars land
There seemed to be nothing to see; no fences, no creeks or trees, no hills or fields. If there was a road, I could not make it out in the faint starlight. There was nothing but land: not a country at all, but the material out of which countries are made.
joy
Oh, this is the joy of the rose;That it blows,And goes.
faces people
We all like people who do things, even if we only see their faces on a cigar-box lid.
earth elsewhere floor roof sky
Elsewhere the sky is the roof of the world, but here the earth is the floor of the sky.
country fiercely five happened human notes repeating singing themselves thousands three
Isn't it queer: there are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before; like the larks in this country that have been singing the same five notes over for thousands of years