Willa Cather

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Picture of Willa Cather

Willa Sibert Cather (; born Wilella Sibert Cather; December 7, 1873 – April 24, 1947) was an American writer known for her novels of life on the Great Plains, including O Pioneers!, The Song of the Lark, and My Ántonia. In 1923, she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for One of Ours, a novel set during World War I.

Quotes from Willa Cather

The heart of another is a dark forest, always, no matter how close it has been to one's own.

—Willa Cather

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relationship intimacy

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The end is nothing, the road is all.

—Willa Cather

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journey path destination

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Give the people a new word and they think they have a new fact.

—Willa Cather

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words knowledge facts

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What was any art but a mold in which to imprison for a moment the shining elusive element which is life itself — life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose.

—Willa Cather

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In little towns, lives roll along so close to one another; loves and hates beat about, their wings almost touching.

—Willa Cather

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love hate intimacy closeness small towns

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The stupid believe that to be truthful is easy; only the artist, the great artist, knows how difficult it is.

—Willa Cather

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honesty truth difficulty art

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That is happiness: to be dissolved into something complete and great.

—Willa Cather

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Men travel faster now, but I do not know if they go to better things.

—Willa Cather

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No one can build his security upon the nobleness of another person.

—Willa Cather

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nobility

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He had the uneasy manner of a man who is not among his own kind, and who has not seen enough of the world to feel that all people are in some sense his own kind.

—Willa Cather

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I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do.

—Willa Cather

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trees

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Security is a kind of death.

—Willa Cather

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security

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Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart.

—Willa Cather

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winter

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He acted too often without counting the cost, from some dazzling conception — one could not say from impulse, for impulses are from the heart. He liked to reorganize and change things for the sake of change, to make a fine gesture. He destroyed the old before he had clearly thought out the new.

—Willa Cather

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Personal hatred and family affection are not incompatible; they often flourish and grow strong together.

—Willa Cather

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