If we never arrived anywhere, it did not matter. Between that earth and that sky i felt erased, blotted out. I did not say my prayers that night: here, i felt what would be would be.

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

There is often a good deal of the child left in people who have had to grow up too soon.

Of course Nebraska is a storehouse of literary material. Everywhere is a storehouse of literary material. If a true artist were born in a pigpen and raised in a sty, he would still find plenty of inspiration for his work. The only need is the eye to see.

If we never arrived anywhere, it did not matter. Between that earth and that sky i felt erased, blotted out. I did not say my prayers that night: here, i felt what would be would be.

The prayers of all good people are good.

Henry Colbert, the miller, always breakfasted with his wife--beyond that he appeared irregularly at the family table.