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Rachel Field
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“If once you have slept on an island / You'll never be quite the same ...”
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“[Deer:] Beautiful, brown, and unafraid / Those eyes returned my stare, / And something with neither sound nor name / Passed between us there.”
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“Something told the wild geese / It was time to go. / Though the fields lay golden / Something whispered, — 'Snow.' / ... / Something told the wild geese / It was time to fly, — / Summer sun was on their wings, / Winter in their cry.”
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“There was no reality to pain when it left one, though while it held one fast all other realities faded.”
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“There's plenty of fire in the coldest flint!”
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“And scandal has a way of catching up with those who disregard its power.”
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“It's terrible when the weak are also cruel for then we are defenseless against them.”
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“I used to think I had ambition ... but now I'm not so sure. It may have been only discontent. They're easily confused.”
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“When I was young they used to say people only threw stones at the tree that was loaded with fruit.”
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“The sight of a cage is only frightening to the bird that has once been caught.”
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“You know the public is more easily swayed by persons than by principles.”
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“I've seen public opinion shift like a wind and put out the very fire it lighted.”
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“... no matter how hard and faithfully we may try we can never compensate another for some lack in his or her life.”
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“Too much good fortune can make you smug and unaware. Happiness should be like an oasis, the greener for the desert that surrounds it.”
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“A little town is like a lantern. Nothing's hid from sight.”
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“No hardy perennial has the enduring quality of hope. Cut it to the roots, stamp it underfoot, let frost and fire work their will, and still some valiant shoot will push, to grow again on such scanty fare as it can find. Only time and the cruel quicklime of fact can destroy that stubborn urgency.”
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“ Isn't it strange some people make / You feel so tired inside, / Your thoughts begin to shrivel up / Likes leaves all brown and dried? / But when you're with some other ones, / It's stranger still to find / Your thoughts as thick as fireflies / All shiny in your mind!”
Rachel Field, U.S. writer, poet
(1894 - 1942)
Full name: Rachel Lyman Field Pederson.