The thing that teases the mind over and over for years, and at last gets itself put down rightly on paper whether little or great, it belongs to Literature. Willa Cather
When we look back, the only things we cherish are those which in some way met our original want; the desire which formed in us in early youth, undirected, and of its own accord. Willa Cather
Sometimes I wonder why God ever trusts talent in the hands of women, they usually make such an infernal mess of it. I think He must do it as a sort of ghastly joke. Willa Cather
Every artist makes himself born. It is very much harder than the other time, and longer. Willa Cather
Desire is creation, is the magical element in that process. If there were an instrument by which to measure desire, one could foretell achievement. Willa Cather
Paris is a hard place to leave, even when it rains incessantly and one coughs continually from the dampness. Willa Cather
The miracles of the church seem to me to rest not so much upon faces or voices or healing power coming suddenly near to us from afar off, but upon our perceptions being made finer, so that for a moment our eyes can see and our ears can hear what is there about us always. Willa Cather
Only solitary men know the full joys of frienship. Others have their family; but to a solitary and an exile, his friends are everything. Willa Cather
Sometimes a neighbor whom we have disliked a lifetime for his arrogance and conceit lets fall a single commonplace remark that shows us another side, another man, really; a man uncertain, and puzzled, and in the dark like ourselves. Willa Cather
Of all the bewildering things about a new country, the absence of human landmarks is one of the most depressing and disheartening. Willa Cather
A work-room should be like an old shoe; no matter how shabby, it's better than a new one. Willa Cather
The condition every art requires is, not so much freedom from restriction, as freedom from adulteration and from the intrusion of foreign matter. Willa Cather
The sun was like a great visiting presence that stimulated and took its due from all animal energy. When it flung wide its cloak and stepped down over the edge of the fields at evening, it left behind it a spent and exhausted world. Willa Cather
Winter lies too long in country towns; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen. Willa Cather