Mary Hunter Austin

Probably we never fully credit the interdependence of wild creatures, and their cognizance of the affairs of their own kind.

For one thing there is the divinest, cleanest air to be breathed anywhere in God's world.

Over the tops of it, beginning to dusk under a young white moon, trailed a wavering ghost of smoke, and at the end of it I came upon the Pocket Hunter making a dry camp in the friendly scrub.

Well, I actually wrote her a letter a couple of days ago congratulating her. The tone I tried to convey in the letter is, look, you are a part of a great American historical process.

Why do men fight who were born to be brothers?

There is no more fatal blunderer than he who consumes the greater part of his life getting his living.