Success is never so interesting as struggle

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.

I first met Myra Henshawe when I was fifteen, but I had known her about ever since I could remember anything at all.

Today I stood taller from walking among the trees.

Wherever humanity has made that hardest of all starts and lifted itself out of mere brutality is a sacred spot.

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!)

The air and the earth interpenetrated in the warm gusts of spring; the soil was full of sunlight, and the sunlight full of red dust. The air one breathed was saturated with earthy smells, and the grass under foot had a reflection of the blue sky in it.