“ Henry James said there isn't any difference between the English novel and the American novel since there are only two kinds of novels at all, the good and the bad. Eudora Welty
“ Then the light changed the water, until all about them the woods in the rising wind seemed to grow taller and blow inward together and suddenly turn dark. The rain struck heavily. A huge tail seemed t… Eudora Welty
“ Long before I wrote stories, I listened for stories. Listening for them is something more acute than listening to them. I suppose it’s an early form of participation in what goes on. Listening childre… Eudora Welty
“ Even as we grew up, my mother could not help imposing herself between her children and whatever it was they might take it in mind to reach out for in the world. For she would get it for them, if it wa… Eudora Welty
“ We do need to bring to our writing, over and over again, all the abundance we possess. To be able, to be ready, to enter into the minds and hearts of our own people, all of them, to comprehend them (u… Eudora Welty
“ Fiction shows us the past as well as the present moment in mortal light; it is an art served by the indelibility of our memory, and one empowered by a sharp and prophetic awareness of what is ephemera… Eudora Welty
“ Children like animals use all their senses to discover the world. Then artists come along and discover it the same way all over again. Eudora Welty
“ When they turned off, it was still early in the pink and green fields. The fumes of morning, sweet and bitter, sprang up where they walked. The insects ticked softly, their strength in reserve; butter… Eudora Welty
“ Memory lived not in initial possession but in the freed hands, pardoned and freed, and in the heart that can empty but fill again, in the patterns restored by dreams. Eudora Welty
“ It was my first-year Latin teacher in high school who made me who made me discover I'd fallen in love with it (grammar). It took Latin to thrust me into bona fide alliance with words in their true mea… Eudora Welty
“ The mystery in how little we know of other people is no greater than the mystery of how much, Laurel thought. Eudora Welty
