No yard! but unfenced Nature reaching up to your very sills. A young forest growing up under your windows, and wild sumachs and bl...ackberry vines breaking through into your cellar; sturdy pitch pines rubbing and creaking against the shingles for want of room, their roots reaching quite under the house. Instead of a scuttle or a blind blown off in the gale,--a pine tree snapped off or torn up by the roots behind your house for fuel. Instead of no path to the front-yard gate in the Great Snow,--no gate--no front-yard,--and no path to the civilized world.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
If I could only live at the pitch that is near madness When everything is as it was in my childhood... Violent, vivid, and of infinite possibility: That the sun and the moon broke over my head.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »