There is no comfort anywhere for anyone who dreads to go home.

The only stupid thing about words is the spelling of them.

The days have never been long enough to do the things I would like to do. Every year has held more of interest than the year before.

As the years pass, I am coming more and more to understand that it is the common, everyday blessings of our common everyday lives for which we should be particularly grateful. They are the things that fill our lives with comfort and our hearts with gladness -- just the pure air to breathe and the strength to breath it; just warmth and shelter and home folks; just plain food that gives us strength; the bright sunshine on a cold day; and a cool breeze when the day is warm.

We heap up around us things that we do not need as the crow makes piles of glittering pebbles.

Pa did not like a country so old and worn out that the hunting was poor. He wanted to go west. For two years he had wanted to go west and take a homestead, but Ma did not want to leave the settled country.

We had no choice. Sadness was a dangerous as panthers and bears. the wilderness needs your whole attention.