“She heard pa shouting,"Jiminy crickets!It's raining fish-hooks and hammer handles!”

“When the fiddle had stopped singing Laura called out softly, "What are days of auld lang syne, Pa?""They are the days of a long time ago, Laura," Pa said. "Go to sleep, now."But Laura lay awake a little while, listening to Pa's fiddle softly playing and to the lonely sound of the wind in the Big Woods,…She was glad that the cozy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.”

“Then Pa looked straight at Laura and said, 'You girls keep away from the camp. When you go walking. don't go near where the men are working, and you be sure you're back here before they come in for the night. There's all kinds of rough men working on the grade and using rough language, and the less you see and hear of them the better. Now remember, Laura. And you too, Carrie.' Pa's face was very serious.'Yes, Pa' Laura promised, and Carrie almost whispered , 'Yes, Pa.' Carrie's eyes were large and frightened. She did not want to hear rough language, whatever rough language might be. Laura would have liked to hear some, just once, but of course she must obey Pa.”

“It can't beat us!" Pa said."Can't it, Pa?" Laura asked stupidly."No," said Pa. "It's got to quit sometime and we don't. It can't lick us. We won't give up."Then Laura felt a warmth inside her. It was very small but it was strong. It was steady, like a tiny light in the dark, and it burned very low but no winds could make it flicker because it would not give up.”

“She thought to herself, "This is now." She was glad that the cozy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.”

“If only I had some grease I could fix some kind of a light," Ma considered. "We didn't lack for light when I was a girl before this newfangled kerosene was ever heard of.""That's so," said Pa. "These times are too progressive. Everything has changed too fast. Railroads and telegraph and kerosene and coal stoves--they're good things to have, but the trouble is, folks get to depend on 'em.”

“Everything from the little house was in the wagon except the beds and tables and chairs. They did not need to take these, because Pa could always make new ones.”