In the beginning of his sleep, he cried out, "Flag!"It was not his own voice that called. It was a boy's voice. Somewhere beyond the sink-hole, past the magnolia, under the live oaks, a boy and a yearling ran side by side, and were gone forever. - Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings
Sorrow was like the wind. It came in gusts. - Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings
It seems to me that the earth may be borrowed but not bought. It may be used, but not owned. ... We are tenants and not possessors, lovers and not masters. - Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings