| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| bd4ebc2 | He turned in a small circle and looked at the grass, the rocks, the river, the raining sky with its tatters and torn places, the shining bark of the wet trees all around. He could not think of any prayers now. But every movement felt like a kind of adoration. | Richard Bausch | ||
| 5698301 | I mean to express the quality of a memory, in order to say something about this life we live, so much of which is fugitive, so much of which is lost in the living of it. | Richard Bausch |