Willa Magland

Then approach nature. Then try, like the first human being, to say what you see and experience and love and lose.

There is nothing less apt to touch a work of art than critical words: all we end up with there is more or less felicitous misunderstandings.

Perhaps I shall never die, shall never attain that continuity and permenance.

"What did you expect?" Úrsula sighed. "Time passes."

I know, I know, I know, I know.

Reason is to imagination as the instrument to the agent, as the body to the spirit, as the shadow to the substance.

And here, thought I, with my own hand I ply my own shuttle and weave my own destiny into these unalterable threads.

The blur of legs resembled wings

Leaves are not more shed from the trees or trees from the earth than they are shed out of you.

I love the darker hours of my existence

Is it the sun?

Books are meant to be lingered in.

I found that I remembered the conformation of the land as one remembers the modeling of human faces.