In little towns, lives roll along so close to one another; loves and hates beat about, their wings almost touching.

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.

People can be lovers and enemies at the same time, you know.

The two friends stood for a few moments on the windy street corner, not speaking a word, as two travelers, who have lost their way, sometimes stand and admit their perplexity in silence. (O Pioneers!)

In this world people have to pay an extortionate price for any exceptional gift whatever.

Old men are like that, you know. It makes them feel important to think they are in love with somebody.

Our tree became the talking tree of the fairy tale; legends and stories nestled like birds in its branches.