Men are all right for friends, but as soon as you marry them they turn into cranky old fathers, even the wild ones.

Merely having seen the season change in a country gave one the sense of having been there for a long time.

Every artist makes herself born. You must bring the artist into the world yourself.

There was nothing but land; not a country at all, but the material out of which countries are made.

In Haverford on the Platte the townspeople still talk of Lucy Gayheart.

Loyal? As loyal as anyone who plays second fiddle ever is.

Of all the bewildering things about a new country, the absence of human landmarks is one of the most depressing and disheartening.