A Man'll Seem Like A Person To

A Man'll Seem Like A Person To A Woman, Year In, Year Out. She'll Put Up And She'll Put Up. Then One Day He'll Do Something Maybe No Worse Than What He's Been A-doing All His Life. She'll Look At Him. And Without No Warning He'll Look Like A Varmint.

It Is Impossible To Be Among The Woods Animals On Their Own Ground Without A Feeling Of Expanding One's Own World, As When Any Foreign Country Is Visited.

Personal Publicity Is Apt To Be Dangerous To Any Writer's Integrity; For The Moment He Begins To Fancy Himself As Quite A Person, A Taint Creeps Into His Work.

It Seemed A Strange Thing To Him, When Earth Was Earth And Rain Was Rain, That Scrawny Pines Should Grow In The Scrub, While By Every Branch And Lake And River There Grew Magnolias. Dogs Were The Same Everywhere, And Oxen And Mules And Horses. But Trees Were Different In Different Places.

But To Make The Intangible Tangible, To Pick The Emotion Out Of The Air And Make It True For Others, Is Both The Blessing And The Curse Of The Writer, For The Thing Between Book Covers Is Never As Beautiful As The Thing He Imagined.