English - Novelist | March 25, 1881 - October 8, 1927
Saddle your dreams before you ride em.
Mary Webb
DreamsYour DreamsRideYouYour
Nature's music is never over; her silences are pauses, not conclusions.
NatureMusicNeverOverConclusions
Give me good digestion, Lord, And also something to digest; but where and how that something comes I leave to Thee, who knoweth best.
GoodBestMeLeaveLordSomething
If you stop to be kind, you must swerve often from your path.
PathBe KindYouStopKindMust
We are tomorrow's past.
PastTomorrow
The past is only the present become invisible and mute; and because it is invisible and mute, its memorized glances and its murmurs are infinitely precious. We are tomorrow's past.
PastTomorrowPresentBecomeBecause
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