There are no limits to either time or distance, except as man himself may make them. I have but to touch the wind to know these things. – Hal Borland
Of all the seasons, autumn offers the most to man and requires the least of him. – Hal Borland
Here comes February, a little girl with her first valentine, a red bow in her wind-blown hair, a kiss waiting on her lips, a tantrum just back of her laughter. – Hal Borland
Without comprehension, the immigrant would forever remain shut — a stranger in America. Until America can release the heart as well as train the hand of the immigrant, he would forever remain driven back upon himself, corroded by the very richness of the unused gifts within his soul. – Anzia Yezierska