“The prairies were dust. Day after day, summer after summer, the scorching winds blew the dust and the sun was brassy in a yellow sky. Crop after crop failed. Again and again the barren land must be mortgaged for taxes and food and next year's seed. The agony of hope ended when there was not harvest and no more credit, no money to pay interest and taxes; the banker took the land. Then the bank failed.” YearsNextInterestPaySunSkyLandWindTaxesSummerCreditSeedsDustYellowAgonyAgain And AgainHarvestCropsBankersNext YearNo MoneyBarrenPrairieScorching Author:Rose Wilder Lane
“The first twenty years of my life were wasted. I didn't fit my environment, and I didn't know any other.” KnowsYearsFirstsEnvironmentFitTwenties Author:Rose Wilder Lane
“I am too sick to work and haven't money enough to last 2 months and pay income tax. I want to keep going but do not see quite how, and there is no alternative - rather than justify my mother's 25-year dread of my "coming back on her, sick," I must kill myself. If she has to pay funeral costs, at least she will cut them to the bone and I will not be here to endure her martyrdom and prolong it by living.” IfsWantYearsEnoughLastsMotherPayCuttingHavensMonthsCostTaxesSickEndureBonesIncomeAlternativesJustifyKeep GoingFuneralDreadComing BackIncome TaxMartyrdom Author:Rose Wilder Lane
