It is a hard matter to save a city in which a fish sells for more than an ox.

She said that anything as big as the bridges over the Platte and the Missouri reconciled her. And it's what goes on in the world that reconciles me.

And I had to look hard to see her face$$$ which I meant always to carry with me; the closest$$$ realest face$$$ under all the shadows of womens faces$$$ at the very bottom of my memory.

Aint it wonderful$$$ Jim$$$ how much people can mean to each other?

The older I grow$$$ the better I know him and the more I understand him.

She laughed her mellow$$$ easy laugh$$$ that was either very artless or very comprehending$$$ one never quite knew which.

It was just this solitariness of love in which a priest's life could be like his Master's. It was not a solitude of atrophy$$$ of negation$$$ but of perpetual flowering.

Certainly his kind have left horrible unconscious memories in all warm-blooded life.

Even after I had pounded his ugly head flat$$$ his body kept on coiling and winding$$$ doubling and falling back on itself.

The blond cornfields were red gold$$$ the haystacks turned rosy and threw long shadows. The whole prairie was like a bush that burned with fire and was not consumed.