Quotes from Alice Corbin

Here is the desert of silence, Blinking and blind in the sun-- An old, old woman who mumbles her beads And crumbles to stone.

One will never remember A greater thing when one dies Than sunlight falling aslant long rows of corn, Or rainy days heavy with grey sullen skies.

With a burro to ride and a burro to drive, There is hardly a man so rich alive.