What right has any human being to talk of bringing up a child? You do not bring up a tree or a plant. It brings itself up. You hav...e to give it a fair chance by tilling the soil.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
How they got a cat up there I do not know, for they are as shy as my aunt about entering a canoe. I wondered that she did not run ...up a tree on the way; but perhaps she was bewildered by the very crowd of opportunities.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Bonnie Lee: Mr. Carter, Mr. Carter, do you really think, I mean, do you really think it was my fault, what happened out there? .../>Geoff Carter: Sure it was your fault. You were gonna have dinner with him, the Dutchman hired him, I sent him up on schedule, the fog came in, a tree got in the way. All your fault. Forget it unless you want the honor.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Look at the trees now, aren't they bare? But you let a certain day come for spring and they'll come out. They won't be the same le...aves that was there last year, but when they come out they're so pretty. I look out at those trees and just think, Oh, you're so beautiful. God sure dressed you up. I say that to a tree. The work I have done, if I have to do it over, I'm willin'. But I don't want to go back. Let me be the leaf just laying at the foot of the tree giving it substance to grow.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Some spring the white man came, built him a house, and made a clearing here, letting in the sun, dried up a farm, piled up the old... gray stones in fences, cut down the pines around his dwelling, planted orchard seeds brought from the old country, and persuaded the civil apple-tree to blossom next to the wild pine and the juniper, shedding its perfume in the wilderness. Their old stocks still remain.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
When I am finishing a picture I hold some God-made object up to it--a rock, a flower, the branch of a tree or my hand--as a kind o...f final test. If the painting stands up beside a thing man cannot make, the painting is authentic. If there's a clash between the two, it is bad art.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
To be shelterless and alone in the open country, hearing the wind moan and watching for day through the whole long weary night; to... listen to the falling rain, and crouch for warmth beneath the lee of some old barn or rick, or in the hollow of a tree; are dismal things--but not so dismal as the wandering up and down where shelter is, and beds and sleepers are by thousands; a houseless rejected creature.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Once, when dust rolled up from the road and the fields were high with heavy-handled wheat and the leaves of every tree were gray a...nd curledup and hung head down, I went in the meadow with an old broom like a gun, where the dandelions had begun to seed and the low ground was cracked, and I flushed grasshoppers from the goldenrod in whirring clouds like quail and shot them down. I smelled wheat in the warm wind and every weed. I tasted dust in my mouth.... I hunted Horse Simon in the shade of a tree. I rode the broom over the brown meadow grass and with a fist like pistol butt and trigger shot the Indian on Horse Simon down.... My horse had a golden tail. Dust rolled up behind. He was on the tractor in a broad-brimmed hat. With a fist like a pistol butt and trigger, going fast, I shot him down.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »