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

I suppose there were moonless nights and dark ones with but a silver shaving and pale stars in the sky, but I remember them all as flooded with the rich indolence of a full moon.

They ravaged neither the rivers nor the forest, and if they irrigated, they took as little water as would serve their needs. The land and all that it bore they treated with consideration; not attempting to improve it, they never desecrated it.

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

There is something frank and joyous and young in the open face of the country. It gives itself ungrudgingly to the moods of the season, holding nothing back.

Most of the basic material a writer works with is acquired before the age of fifteen.

Let people go on talking as they like, and we will go on living as we think best.