"You remember how homesick I used to get, and what long talks we used to have coming from school? We've someway always felt alike about things." "Yes… - Willa Cather

On the edge of the prairie, where the sun had gone down, the sky was turquoise blue, like a lake, with gold light throbbing in it. Higher up, in the utter clarity of the western slope, the evening star hung like a lamp suspended by silver chains — like the lamp engraved up the title-page of old Latin texts, which is always appearing in new heavens and waking new desires in men.

The spark in his eye, which is one's very self, caught the spark in hers that was herself, and for a moment they looked into each other's natures.

I've seen it before. There are women who spread ruin through no fault of theirs, just by being too beautiful, too ful of life and love. They can't help it. Poeple come to them as people go to a warm fire in winter.