What was any art but a mould in which to imprison for a moment the shining elusive element which is life itself - life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose.
Willa CatherRead
Sometimes," I ventured, "it doesn't occur to boys that their mother was ever young and pretty. . . I couldn't stand it if you boys were inconsiderate, or thought of her as if she were just somebody who looked after you. You see I was very much in love with your mother once, and I know there's nobody like her.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote emphasizes the beauty and individuality of a mother, reminding the listener of her past and the love she once inspired.
Willa Cather's quote highlights the idea that children often don't recognize or appreciate their mother's youth and charm, viewing her merely as a caretaker. The speaker stresses the importance of acknowledging and honoring the unique qualities of their mother, reflecting on the deep love they once felt and still hold for her, encouraging a more compassionate and considerate view of her.
Themes
MotherLoveAppreciationYouthFamily
In practice
Example use cases
In a speech at a family gathering, one could use this quote to remind everyone to cherish their mother.
More from Willa Cather
All quotes →That is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great.
Willa CatherRead
Our tree became the talking tree of the fairy tale; legends and stories nestled like birds in its branches.
Willa CatherRead
Writing ought either to be the manufacture of stories for which there is a market demand - a business as safe and commendable as making soap or breakfast foods - or it should be an art, which is always a search for something for which there is no market demand, something new and untried, where the values are intrinsic and have nothing to do with standardized values.
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The air and the earth interpenetrated in the warm gusts of spring; the soil was full of sunlight, and the sunlight full of red dust. The air one breathed was saturated with earthy smells, and the grass under foot had a reflection of the blue sky in it.
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This is reality, whether you like it or not--all those frivolities of summer, the light and shadow, the living mask of green that trembled over everything, they were lies, and this is what was underneath. This is the truth.
Willa CatherRead
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