In small towns people scent the wind with noses of uncommon keenness.

A broken spoon may be a fork in disguise.

Any statement beginning with the words 'In truth' is almost always a lie.

Time was a face on the water, and like the great river before them, it did nothing but flow.

How much courage does it take to fire up your tractor and plow under a crop you spent six or seven years growing? How much courage to go on and do that after you've spent all that time finding out how to prepare the soil and when to plant and how much to water and when to reap? How much to just say, "I have to quit these peas. Peas are no good for me, I better try corn or beans.

Outside, daylight was bleeding slowly toward dusk.

the look of the sky as the day's blue blood runs out of its cheek.