Quote by: Willa Cather

A crimson fire that vanquishes the stars;A pungent odor from the dusty sage;A sudden stirring of the huddled herds;A breaking of the distant table-landsThrough purple mists ascending, and the flareOf water ditches silver in the light;A swift, bright lance hurled low across the world;A sudden sickness for the hills of home.


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Author Bio


  • NameWilla Cather
  • DescriptionNovelist, short story writer, poet, essayist
  • BornDecember 7, 1873
  • DiedApril 24, 1947
  • CountryUnited States Of America
  • ProfessionWriter; Poet; Novelist; Journalist; Essayist
  • AwardsNational Women's Hall Of Fame