Learning stamps you with its moments. Childhood's learning is made up of moments. It isn't steady. It's a pulse.

Each day the storm clouds were opening like great purple flowers and pouring out their dark thunder. Each nightfall, the storm was laid down on their houses like a burden the day had carried.

I was always my own teacher.

The mystery in how little we know of other people is no greater than the mystery of how much, Laurel thought.

Don't give anybody up." He stroked her. "Or leave anybody out. Me and you both left her out today, and I'm ashamed for us." "There just wasn't room in today for it ... He said, "There's room for everything, and time for everybody, if you take your day the way it comes along and try not to be much later than you can help."

Southerners love a good tale. They are born reciters, great memory retainers, diary keepers, letter exchangers . . . great talkers.

All experience is an enrichment rather than an impoverishment.