Loyal? As loyal as anyone who plays second fiddle ever is. Willa Cather More Quotes by Willa Cather More Quotes From Willa Cather I have not much faith in women in fiction.... Women are so horribly subjective and they have such scorn for the healthy commonplace. When a woman writes a story of adventure, a stout sea tale, a manly battle yarn, anything without wine, women, and love, then I will begin to hope for something great from them, not before. Willa Cather womenwinewriting Oh, the Germans classify, but the French arrange. Willa Cather She had certain thoughts which were like companions, ideas which were like older and wiser friends. Willa Cather companioncertainideas Paris is a hard place to leave, even when it rains incessantly and one coughs continually from the dampness. Willa Cather hardparisrain Too much information is rather deadening. Willa Cather too-much-informationinformationtoo-much Happy people do a great deal for their friends. Willa Cather happy-peopledealspeople Your vivid, exciting companionship in the office must not be your audience, you must find your own quiet center of life, and write from that to the world. Willa Cather officewritingworld The irregular and intimate quality of things made entirely by the human hand. Willa Cather intimatequalityhands He domesticated and developed the native wild flowers. He had one hill-side solidly clad with that low-growing purple verbena which mats over the hills of New Mexico. It was like a great violet velvet mantle thrown down in the sun; all the shades that the dyers and weavers of Italy and France strove for through centuries, the violet that is full of rose colour and is yet not lavender; the blue that becomes almost pink and then retreats again into sea-dark purple—the true Episcopal colour and countless variations of it. Willa Cather flowerseadark This is reality, whether you like it or not--all those frivolities of summer, the light and shadow, the living mask of green that trembled over everything, they were lies, and this is what was underneath. This is the truth. Willa Cather summerlyingreality I wanted to walk straight on through the red grass and over the edge of the world, which could not be very far away. The light and air abot me told me that the world ended here: only the ground and sun and sky were left, and if one went a little farther there would only be sun and sky, and one would float off into them, like the tawny hawks which sailed over our heads making slow shadows on the grass. Willa Cather lightairsky The qualities of a second-rate writer can easily be defined, but a first-rate writer can only be experienced. It is just the thing in him which escapes analysis that makes him first-rate. Willa Cather analysisqualityfirsts Dr. Howard Archie had just come up from a game of pool with the Jewish clothier and two traveling men who happened to be staying overnight in Moonstone. Willa Cather gamesmenbook One afternoon late in October of the year 1697, Euclide Auclair, the philosopher apothecary of Quebec, stood on the top of Cap Diamant gazing down the broad, empty river far beneath him. Willa Cather riversbookyears Henry Colbert, the miller, always breakfasted with his wife--beyond that he appeared irregularly at the family table. Willa Cather wifetablesbook 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 eyebrotherbook One January day, thirty years ago, the little town of Hanover, anchored on a windy Nebraska tableland, was trying not to be blown away. Willa Cather tryingbookyears I first met Myra Henshawe when I was fifteen, but I had known her about ever since I could remember anything at all. Willa Cather fifteenbookfirsts In Haverford on the Platte the townspeople still talk of Lucy Gayheart. Willa Cather lucystillsbook 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. Willa Cather airmenbook
