Quotes from Martha Ostenso

By mid-morning a rain as fine as silk spills was weaving over the lake.

Listen - man is a child of Nature. When he turns against his mother - he's done! He may not find out about it right away, but he will.

God, what pathetic creatures had inherited the earth, to walk a little while with their eyes upon the stars and turn their gaze too soon upon the ground that held their feet!

Growing old was simply a process of drawing closer to that ultimate independence called death.

But one had to go back to the beginning of things, always. Trace the thread of life - find the knot - untangle it.

Ah, life, life, how madly, how cruelly it raced along your pulses!

There is too much doing - too little being! When we begin to get strenuous, life begins to grow intolerable.

The snow again. White, white net of beauty, net of dream, trapping the earth, trapping the helpless heart of life.

Time passed so much more slowly than space.

Time, designing slowly, swiftly; Time, destroying slowly, swiftly; Time holding, possessing the earth in its tender indifference.

There's precious little comes of telling people what they don't want to hear.

it was a sly trick of God's to give a man work to do - it kept him from asking questions that God couldn't answer.

Work did not destroy the loneliness; work was only a fog in which they moved so that they might not see the loneliness of each other