Off Highway 106 At Cherrylog Road I entered... The '34 Ford without wheels, Smothered in kudzu, With a seat pulled out to run Corn whiskey down from the hills,LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
There is a road that turning always Cuts off the country of Again.... Archers stand there on every side And as it runs time's deer is slain, And lies where it has lain.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Good writing is a kind of skating which carries off the performer where he would not go, and is only right admirable when to all i...ts beauty and speed a subserviency to the will, like that of walking, is added.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Telephone poles were matchsticks, put there to be snapped off at a whim. Dogs trotting across the road were suddenly big trucks. O...ld ladies turned into moving--vans. Everything was too bright, but very funny and made for my delight. And about half a mile from my long liquid breakfast I turned carefully down a side street and parked, and sat beaming happily through the tannic fog for about an hour, remembering how witty we all had been, how handsome and talented ... [ellipsis in original]LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Diddy-Wah-Diddy ... is a place of no work and no worry for man or beast. The road to it is so crooked that a mule pulling a load o...f fodder can eat off the back of the wagon as he plods along. All curbstones are chairs, and all food is already cooked. Baked chickens and sweet potato pies, with convenient knives and forks, drift along crying, 'Eat me! Eat me!'LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
She had been getting ready for her great journey to the horizons in search of people; it was important to all the world that she s...hould find them and they find her, but she had been whipped like a cur dog, and run off down a back road after things.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Uncontrolled, the hunger and thirst after God may become an obstacle, cutting off the soul from what it desires. If a man would tr...avel far along the mystic road, he must learn to desire God intensely but in stillness, passively and yet with all his heart and mind and strength.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Far up in the country,--for we would be faithful to our experience,--in Thornton, perhaps, we met a soldier lad in the woods, goin...g to muster in full regimentals, and holding the middle of the road; deep in the forest, with shouldered musket and military step, and thoughts of war and glory all to himself. It was a sore trial to the youth, tougher than many a battle, to get by us creditably and with soldier-like bearing. Poor man! He actually shivered like a reed in his thin military pants, and by the time we had got up with him, all the sternness that becomes the soldier had forsaken his face, and he skulked past as if he were driving his father's sheep under a sword-proof helmet. It was too much for him to carry any extra armor then, who could not easily dispose of his natural arms. And for his legs, they were like heavy artillery in boggy places; better to cut the traces and forsake them. His greaves chafed and wrestled one with another for want of other foes. But he did get by and get off with all his munitions, and lived to fight another day; and I do not record this as casting any suspicion on his honor and real bravery in the field.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Their leader was a handsome man about thirty years old, of good height, but not apparently robust, of gentlemanly address and faul...tless toilet; such a one as you might expect to meet on Broadway. In fact, in the popular sense of the word, he was the most "gentlemanly" appearing man in the stage, or that we saw on the road. He had a fair white complexion, as if he had always lived in the shade, and an intellectual face, and with his quiet manners might have passed for a divinity student who had seen something of the world. I was surprised to find, on talking with him in the course of the day's journey, that he was a hunter at all,--for his gun was not much exposed,--and yet more to find that he was probably the chief white hunter of Maine, and was known all along the road.... In the spring, he had saved a stage-driver and two passengers from drowning in the backwater of the Piscataquis in Foxcroft on this road, having swum ashore in the freezing water and made a raft and got them off,--though the horses were drowned,--at great risk to himself, while the only other man who could swim withdrew to the nearest house to prevent freezing. He could now ride over this road for nothing. He knew our man, and remarked that we had a good Indian there, a good hunter; adding that he was said to be worth $6000. The Indian also knew him, and said to me, "the great hunter."LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »