Winter lies too long in country towns; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen.

Winter lies too long in country towns; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen.

The dead might as well try to speak to the living as the old to the young.

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

Trees were so rare in that country, and they had to make such a hard fight to grow, that we used to feel anxious about them, and visit them as if they were persons. It must have been the scarcity of detail in that tawny landscape that made detail so precious.

The history of every country begins in the heart of a man or a woman