Claude Wheeler opened his eyes before the sun was up and vigorously shook his younger brother, who lay in the other half of the same bed.

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

If [the writer] achieves anything noble, anything enduring, it must be by giving himself absolutely to his material. And this gift of sympathy is his great gift; is the fine thing in him that alone can make his work fine.

On the farm the weather was the great fact, and men's affairs went on underneath it, as the streams creep under the ice.

After all, the supreme virtue in all art is soul, perhaps it is the only thing which gives art a right to be.

An artist's saddest secrets are those that have to do with his artistry.

Elsewhere the sky is the roof of the world; but here the earth was the floor of the sky.