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“Just like the sun coming up yonder out of the sea, pushing rays of light ahead of it.”
― Esther Forbes, Johnny Tremain

“After that hard winter, one could not get enough of the nimble air. Every morning I wakened with a fresh consciousness that winter was over. There were none of the signs of spring for which I used to watch in Virginia, no budding woods or blooming gardens. There was only—spring itself; the throb of it, the light restlessness, the vital essence of it everywhere: in the sky, in the swift clouds, in the pale sunshine, and in the warm, high wind—rising suddenly, sinking suddenly, impulsive and playful like a big puppy that pawed you and then lay down to be petted. If I had been tossed down blindfold on that red prairie, I should have known that it was spring.”
― Willa Cather, My Ántonia

“As I looked about me I felt that the grass was the country, as the water is the sea. The red of the grass made all the great prairie the colour of winestains, or of certain seaweeds when they are first washed up. And there was so much motion in it; the whole country seemed, somehow, to be running.”
― Willa Cather, My Ántonia

“At the other end of the room the three old men discussed infirmities; exchanging symptoms in undertones as boys might speak of lust.”
― Shirley Hazzard, The Transit of Venus

“[Becoming a media mogul] would have eroded my soul and turned me into a smooth rock of sadness.”
― Hank Green