Love is like a wind stirring the grass beneath trees on a black night,' he had said. 'You must not try to make love definite. It is the divine accident of life. If you try to be definite and sure about it and to live beneath the trees, where soft night winds blow, the long hot day of disappointment comes swiftly and the gritty dust from passing wagons gathers upon lips inflamed and made tender by kisses.
Sherwood AndersonAll good New Orleanians go to look at the Mississippi at least once a day. At night it is like creeping into a dark bedroom to look at a sleeping child--something of that sort--gives you the same warm nice feeling, I mean.
Sherwood Anderson...she thought that something unexpressed in herself came forth and became a part of an unexpressed something in them.
Sherwood AndersonThere is within every human being a deep well of thinking over which a heavy iron lid is kept clamped.
Sherwood Anderson