Prairie Quotes

There is extraordinary similarities between the Midwest in America and Europe in that there is this sense of vast, open sky and loneliness and cold.

There's no great loss without some small gain.

Contrary to slanderous Eastern opinion, much of Iowa is not flat, but rolling hills country with a lot of timber, a handsome and imaginative landscape, crowded with constant small changes of scene and full of little creeks winding with pools where shiners, crappies and catfish hover.

'West To A Land Of Plenty' shows a family heading west, first on board a train, and then going into areas as yet untamed by rail by way of an ox-drawn wagon.

The landscape of Texas is in all my work. It's that light; it's that sky.

Come and try me. Forget the past, if it makes you sad. I am the Land of the Second Chance. I am the Land of Beginning Again. I will not ask who your ancestors were. I want You- nothing matters now but just you and me, and we will make good together" This is the invitation of the prairie to the discouraged and weary ones of the old lands, whose dreams have failed, whose plans are gone wrong and were ready to fall out of the race.

I came west for opportunity. I made Lincoln my home.

Anybody who has stood on the prairie in North Dakota has felt the force of the wind and knows that our state has an inexhaustible supply of wind power. The potential here to create jobs and draw millions of dollars in new investment to North Dakota is enormous.

In the long winter evenings he talked to Ma about the Western country. In the West the land was level, and there were no trees. The grass grew thick and high.

All my roots are still in the prarie country of the Middle West.

'Mustanging' was like trout fishing. It is always the big ones that get away. When you did get a bunch of them into a corral, you found they did not look half so large and handsome as when they were first sighted on the prairie.

I live in Indiana and teach at Purdue University, a wonderful school with some of the brightest students I have ever had the privilege of working with. My colleagues are powerful and intelligent and kind. The cost of living is low, the prairie is wide, and on clear nights, I can see all the stars in the sky above.

I always thought of myself as a good old South Dakota boy who grew up here on the prairie.

On the prairie one can see the colour of the air.

The Kings played out of the Memorial Community Centre, an old wooden barn like you'd see in other Prairie towns. It was built after World War II and the Kings were the biggest thing in town. The Memorial was packed for every game - maybe 3,000 when we'd play the Kenora Muskies or other rival towns. It seemed like everyone in town came out to games.

I've lived in Kansas for more than thirty years, and for half of those, I was part of a ranching family, so I'm writing about things I know and love.

I have bougainvillea and a magnolia tree outside my window. Not that anything will ever beat the view I had from my desk window in my little farmhouse in Nebraska. Just a dirt road stretching out as far as you could see, with prairie grass on either side.

I go for drives in the Flint Hills, which is the setting for 'The Virgin of Small Plains'.

But there were moments when she played songs that made you wonder where she learned them, where indeed she came from. Harsh-tender wandering tunes with words that smacked of pinewoods or prairie. One went: Don’t wanna sleep, Don’t wanna die, Just wanna go a-travelin’ through the pastures of the sky; and this one seemed to gratify her the most, for often she continued it long after her hair hard dried, after the sun had gone and there were lighted windows in the dusk.

Casper Wyo., population 18,000 when I was born, was large enough to hold the surprises of civilization, but small enough that the prairie was close by - for some in our town, right out the front door - stretching on forever, under the great curving sky.

Riding in advance, we passed over one of these great plains; we looked back and saw the line of scattered horsemen stretching for a mile or more; and far in the rear against the horizon, the white wagons creeping slowly along.

There is room for everyone and to spare.

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, -

The weather was fine, the valleys literally covered with buffaloe, and everything seemed to promise a safe and speedy movement to the first grove of timber on my route, supposed to be about ten days' march.

Oklahoma's my home. I love it there. I miss it.