“It was as if a morning-glory had bloomed in her throat, and all that blue and small pollen ate into my heart, violent and religious”
“The morning glory which blooms for an hour differs not at heart from the giant pine, which lives for a thousand years.”
“Hi! My little hutIs newly-thatched I see...Blue morning-glories”
“She is like the morning," he said. "With that golden hair, those blue eyes, and that fresh bloom on her cheek, she is like the summer morning. The birds here will mistake her for it. We will not call such a lovely young creature as that, who is a joy to all mankind, an orphan. She is the child of the universe.”
“I had no more alphabetthan the journeying of the swallows,the pure and tiny waterof the small, fiery birdthat dances rising from the pollen.”
“The dread that had been rising all morning rose higher in his throat as if by capillary action.”