Men had reached into the scrub and along its boundaries, had snatched what they could get and had gone away, uneasy in that vast indifferent peace; for a man was nothing, crawling ant-like among the myrtle bushes under the pines. Now they were gone, it was as though they had never been. The silence of the scrub was primordial. The wood-thrush crying across it might have been the first bird in the world-or the last.
Marjorie Kinnan RawlingsA woman has got to love a bad man once or twice in her life, to be thankful for a good one.
Marjorie Kinnan RawlingsInformation can be passed from one to another, like a silver dollar. There's absolutely no wisdom except what you learn for yourself.
Marjorie Kinnan Rawlingsno case of libel by a negro against a white would even reach a southern court.
Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings