Zane Grey Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Zane Grey. Here they are! All 186 of them:

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I need this wild life, this freedom.
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Zane Grey
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Recipe For Greatness - To bear up under loss; To fight the bitterness of defeat and the weakness of grief; To be victor over anger; To smile when tears are close; To resist disease and evil men and base instincts; To hate hate and to love love; To go on when it would seen good to die; To look up with unquenchable faith in something ever more about to be. That is what any man can do, and be great.
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Zane Grey
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Instinct may not be greater than reason, but it's a million years older. Don't fight your instincts so hard. If they were not good the God of Creation would not have given them to you.
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Zane Grey (The Man of the Forest)
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Where I was raised a woman's word was law. I ain't quite outgrowed that yet.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage (Riders of the Purple Sage, #1))
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Jealousy is an unjust and stifling thing.
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Zane Grey (The Call of the Canyon)
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But what can women do in times of war? They help, they cheer, they inspire, and if their cause is lost they must accept death or worse. Few women have the courage for self-destruction. "To the victor belong the spoils," and women have ever been the spoils of war.
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Zane Grey (Betty Zane)
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The narrator finds that as a maturing character grows in stature before her friends that she sees less stature while evaluating herself.
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Zane Grey (The Call of the Canyon)
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I knew you"d never be American enough to help me reconstruct my life.
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Zane Grey (The Call of the Canyon)
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When I envied a man's spurs then they were indeed worth coveting.
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Zane Grey
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Pride would never be her ally.
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Zane Grey (The Call of the Canyon)
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You and I will never live to see the day that women recover their balance.
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Zane Grey (The Call of the Canyon)
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Unhappiness is only a change. Happiness itself is only change. So what does it matter? The great thing is to see life--to understand--to feel--to work--to fight--to endure.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
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Love of man for woman - love of woman for man. That's the nature, the meaning, the best of life itself.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage (Riders of the Purple Sage, #1))
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I am waiting to plunge down, to shatter and crash, roar and boom, to bury your trail, and close forever the outlet to Deception Pass!
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
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It was a sight to make Zane Grey reach for his ballpoint, or Sergio Leone send out for another fifty foot of standard eight.
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Robert Rankin (The Antipope)
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That, my dear uncultured wolf, is a Charlie Russellβ€”cowboy turned artist. Without him, Montana’s history would just be a footnote in a Zane Grey novel.
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Patricia Briggs (River Marked (Mercy Thompson, #6))
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Socialism reached into her mind, to be rejected. She had never understood it clearly, but it seemed to her a state of mind where dissatisfied men and women wanted to share what harder working or more gifted people possessed.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
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So that's troublin' you? I reckon it needn't. You see it was this way. I come round the house an' seen that fat party an' heard him talkin' loud. Then he seen me, an' very impolite goes straight for his gun. He oughtn't have tried to throw a gun on me - whatever his reason was. For that's meetin' me on my own grounds. I've seen runnin' molasses that was quicker'n him. Now I didn't know who he was, visitor or friend or relation of yours, though I seen he was a Mormon all over, an' I couldn't get serious about shootin'. So I winged him - put a bullet through his arm as he was pullin' at his gun. An' he droppped the gun there, an' a little blood. I told him he'd introduced himself sufficient, an' to please move out of my vicinity. An' went" - Lassiter
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage (Riders of the Purple Sage, #1))
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Like an arrow sprung from a bow Betty flashed past the Colonel and out on the green. Scarcely ten of the long hundred yards had been covered by her flying feet when a roar of angry shouts and yells warned Betty that the keen-eyed savages saw the bag of powder and now knew they had been deceived by a girl.
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Zane Grey (Betty Zane)
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When I rodeβ€”I rode like the wind," she replied, "and never had time to stop for anything.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
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I need this wild life, this freedom. To be alive, to look into nature, and so into my soul.
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Zane Grey
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Shut off your wind, Jack! And you, too, Blaze! I didn't want you fellows to come here. But as you would come, you've got to shut up. This is my business.
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Zane Grey
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Get up, an' take my scarf," said Wade, "an' bandage these bullet-holes I got.
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Zane Grey (The Mysterious Rider)
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the false courage of association with a crowd.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
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With distrust came suspicion and with suspicion came fear, and with fear came hate--and these, in already distorted minds, inflamed a hell.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
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I arise full of eagerness and energy, knowing well what achievement lies ahead of me.
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Zane Grey
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Fishing keeps men boys longer than any other pursuit
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey on Fishing)
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An awful sense of her deadness, of her soul-blighting selfishness, began to dawn upon her as something monstrous out of dim, gray obscurity.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
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Β Carley saw two forces in life--the destructive and constructive. On the one side greed, selfishness, materialism: on the other generosity, sacrifice, and idealism.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
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Mister Hawe, you come along, not satisfied with ropin
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Zane Grey (Light of the Western Stars)
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What is writing but an expression of my own life?
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Zane Grey
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What's all the row over at Ben's?" [Mrs. Ide] inquired, placidly, from her comfortable chair. "Rustlers, cattle, foremen, sheriffs, and Heaven only knows what," replied Hettie, distractedly.
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Zane Grey (Nevada)
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As he watched this beautiful, still world, Louie played with a thought that had come to him before. He had thought it as he had watched hunting seabirds, marveling at their ability to adjust their dives to compensate for the refraction of light in water. He had thought it as he had considered the pleasing geometry of the sharks, their gradation of color, their slide through the sea. He even recalled the thought coming to him in his youth, when he had lain on the roof of the cabin in the Cahuilla Indian Reservation, looking up from Zane Grey to watch night settling over the earth. Such beauty, he thought, was too perfect to have come about by mere chance. That day in the center of the Pacific was, to him, a gift crafted deliberately, compassionately, for him and Phil. Joyful and grateful in the midst of slow dying, the two men bathed in that day until sunset brought it, and their time in the doldrums, to an end.
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Laura Hillenbrand (Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption)
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And as he lost that softness of nature, so he lost his fear of men. He would watch for Oldring, biding his time, and he would kill this great black-bearded rustler who had held a girl in bondage, who had used her to his infamous ends.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
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Instantly a thick blackness seemed to enfold her and silence as of a dead world settled down upon her. Drowsy as she was she could not close her eyes nor refrain from listening. Darkness and silence were tangible things. She felt them. And they seemed suddenly potent with magic charm to still the tumult of her, to sooth and rest, to create thought she had never thought before. Rest was more than selfish indulgence. Loneliness was necessary to gain conciseness of the soul.
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Zane Grey (The Call of the Canyon)
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He stalked into the room, leaned his long rifle against the mantelpiece and spread out his hands to the fire. He was clad from head to foot in fringed and beaded buckskin, which showed evidence of a long and arduous tramp. It was torn and wet and covered with mud. He was a magnificently made man, six feet in height, and stood straight as an arrow. His wide shoulders, and his muscular, though not heavy, limbs denoted wonderful strength and activity. His long hair, black as a raven's wing, hung far down his shoulders. Presently he turned and the light shone on a remarkable face. So calm and cold and stern it was that it seemed chiselled out of marble. The most striking features were its unusual pallor, and the eyes, which were coal black, and piercing as the dagger's point.
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Zane Grey (Betty Zane)
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No nerve, hey? Not half a man!... Buster Jack, why don't you finish game? Make up for your low-down tricks. At the last try to be worthy of your dad. In his day he was a real man.... Let him have the consolation that you faced Hell-Bent Wade an' died in your boots!
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Zane Grey (The Mysterious Rider)
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...dare we live for one another? Dare we be happy?" "Child, it's our only hope. Let us make our love atone for the hate of our fathers. We have been doomed by their sins. Not that...nor anythin' can keep us apart. I am a slayer of men, but I think God spoke to me today.
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Zane Grey (Tonto Basin)
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Halt!..." Wade leaped at the white Belllounds. "If you run I'll break a leg for you--an' then I'll beat your miserable brains out!... Have you no sense? Can't you recognize what's comin'?... I'm goin' to kill you, Buster Jack!" "My God!" whispered the other, understanding fully at last.
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Zane Grey (The Mysterious Rider)
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A man can die. He is glorious when he calmly accepts death; but when he fights like a tiger, when he stands at bay his back to the wall, a broken weapon in his hand, bloody, defiant, game to the end, then he is sublime. Then he wrings respect from the souls of even his bitterest foes. Then he is avenged even in his death.
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Zane Grey (Betty Zane)
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The rugged fallow ground under her feet seemed to her to be a symbol of faith β€” faith that winter would come and pass β€” the spring sun and rain would burst the seeds of wheat β€” and another summer would see the golden fields of waving grain. If she did not live to see them, they would be there just the same; and so life and nature had faith in its promise. That strange whisper was to Lenore the whisper of God.
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Zane Grey (The Desert Of Wheat)
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He saw his enemies stealthily darting from rock to tree, and tree to bush, creeping through the brush, and slipping closer and closer every moment. On three sides were his hated foes and on the remaining sideβ€”the abyss. Without a moment's hesitation the intrepid Major spurred his horse at the precipice. Never shall I forget that thrilling moment. The three hundred savages were silent as they realized the Major's intention. Those in the fort watched with staring eyes. A few bounds and the noble steed reared high on his hind legs. Outlined by the clear blue sky the magnificent animal stood for one brief instant, his black mane flying in the wind, his head thrown up and his front hoofs pawing the air like Marcus Curtius' mailed steed of old, and then down with a crash, a cloud of dust, and the crackling of pine limbs.
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Zane Grey (Betty Zane)
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The awfulness of sudden death and the glory of heaven stunned me! The thing that had been mystery at twilight, lay clear, pure, open in the rosy hue of dawn. Out of the gates of the morning poured a light which glorified the palaces and pyramids, purged and purified the afternoon's inscrutable clefts, swept away the shadows of the mesas, and bathed that broad, deep world of mighty mountains, stately spars of rock, sculptured cathedrals and alabaster terraces in an artist's dream of color. A pearl from heaven had burst, flinging its heart of fire into this chasm. A stream of opal flowed out of the sun, to touch each peak, mesa, dome, parapet, temple and tower, cliff and cleft into the new-born life of another day. I sat there for a long time and knew that every second the scene changed, yet I could not tell how. I knew I sat high over a hole of broken, splintered, barren mountains; I knew I could see a hundred miles of the length of it, and eighteen miles of the width of it, and a mile of the depth of it, and the shafts and rays of rose light on a million glancing, many-hued surfaces at once; but that knowledge was no help to me. I repeated a lot of meaningless superlatives to myself, and I found words inadequate and superfluous. The spectacle was too elusive and too great. It was life and death, heaven and hell.
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Zane Grey (The Last of the Plainsmen)
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He came at length to realize that the desert was a teacher. He did not realize all that he had learned, but he was a different man. And when he decided upon that, he was not thinking of the slow, sure call to the primal instincts of man; he was thinking that the desert, as much as he had experienced and no more, would absolutely overturn the whole scale of a man’s values, break old habits, form new ones, remake him. More of desert experience, Gale believed, would be too much for intellect. The desert did not breed civilized man, and that made Gale ponder over a strange thought: after all, was the civilized man inferior to the savage?
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Zane Grey (Desert Gold)
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Zane Grey’s Heritage of the Desert,
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Mark Seal (Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli: The Epic Story of the Making of The Godfather)
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The elder wife said that the stranger was welcome to the children, but she insisted that they hear nothing of the outside world, and that they be kept to the teachings of the Mormon geographyβ€”which made all the world outside Utah an untrodden wilderness. August Naab did not hold to the letter of the Mormon law; he argued that if the children could not be raised as Mormons with a full knowledge of the world, they would only be lost in the end to the Church.
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Zane Grey (The Heritage of the Desert)
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With that they, and many others, left the hall and joined the moving crowd in the street. The night was delightfully cool. Stars shone white in a velvet sky. The dry wind from mountain and desert blew in their faces. Pan
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Zane Grey (Valley of Wild Horses)
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if often telling makes it true.
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Zane Grey (The Frontier Trilogy by Zane Grey)
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Characters you’ll find difficult to forget (besides the two lead characters), include the astute Jim Traft, Sr., Molly’s semi-outlaw brother Arch (Slinger) Dunn; faithful Andy Stoneham; kind-hearted Mrs. See; the rollicking cowboy, Curley Prentiss; the despicable villain, Hank Jocelyn; the supposedly deaf cook, Jeff Davis; Molly’s embittered mother; Ring Locke, the range boss; and a host of other characters who play cameo parts.
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Zane Grey (The Drift Fence: A Western Story)
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Mrs. Mudford. Room six. I realize she might be a little more advanced than some of the other children, but I doubt she’ll be the only one reading Zane Grey, don’t you?
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Bonnie Garmus (Lessons in Chemistry)
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You dream… or you’re driven mad.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage (Riders of the Purple Sage, #1))
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Carley's edifice of hopes, dreams, aspirations, and struggles fell in ruins about her. It had been built upon false sands. It had no ideal for foundation. It had to fall.
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Zane Grey (The Call Of The Canyon)
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His words explained, but they did not convince. Was this sudden-bursting glory only the sun rising behind storm clouds? She could see the clouds moving while they were being colored. The universal gray surrendered under some magic paint brush. The rifts widened, and the gloom of the pale-gray world seemed to vanish. Beyond the billowy, rolling, creamy edges of clouds, white and pink, shone the soft exquisite fresh blue sky. And a blaze of fire, a burst of molten gold, sheered up from behind the rim of cloud and suddenly poured a sea of sunlight from east to west. It trans-figured the round foothills. They seemed bathed in ethereal light, and the silver mists that overhung them faded while Carley gazed, and a rosy flush crowned the symmetrical domes. Southward along the horizon line, down-dropping veils of rain, just touched with the sunrise tint, streamed in drifting slow movement from cloud to earth. To the north the range of foothills lifted toward the majestic dome of Sunset Peak, a volcanic upheaval of red and purple cinders, bare as rock, round as the lower hills, and wonderful in its color. Full in the blaze of the rising sun it flaunted an unchangeable front. Carley understood now what had been told her about this peak. Volcanic fires had thrown up a colossal mound of cinders burned forever to the hues of the setting sun. In every light and shade of day it held true to its name. Farther north rose the bold bulk of the San Francisco Peaks, that, half lost in the clouds, still dominated the desert scene. Then as Carley gazed the rifts began to close. Another transformation began, the reverse of what she watched. The golden radiance of sunrise vanished, and under a gray, lowering) coalescing pall of cloud the round hills returned to their bleak somberness, and the green desert took again its cold sheen.
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Zane Grey (The Call Of The Canyon)
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Steep black-cindered slope, with its soft gray patches of grass, sheered down and down, and out in rolling slope to merge upon a cedar-dotted level. Nothing moved below, but a red-tailed hawk sailed across her vision. How still-how gray the desert floor as it reached away, losing its black dots, and gaining bronze spots of stone! By plain and prairie it fell away, each inch of gray in her sight magnifying into its league-long roll, On and on, and down across dark lines that were steppes, and at last blocked and changed by the meandering green thread which was the verdure of a desert river. Beyond stretched the white sand, where whirlwinds of dust sent aloft their funnel-shaped spouts; and it led up to the horizon-wide ribs and ridges of red and walls of yellow and mountains of black, to the dim mound of purple so ethereal and mystic against the deep-blue cloud-curtained band of sky.
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Zane Grey (The Call Of The Canyon)
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This beast that puffed smoke and spat fire and shrieked like a devil of an alien tribe; that split the silence as hideously as the long track split the once smooth plain; that was made of iron and wood; this thing of the white man’s, coming from out of the distance where the Great Spirit lifted the dawn, meant the end of the hunting-grounds and the doom of the Indian. Blood had flowed; many warriors lay in their last sleep under the trees; but the iron monster that belched fire had gone only to return again. Those white men were many as the needles of the pines. They fought and died, but always others came. The chief was old and wise, taught by sage and star and mountain and wind and the loneliness of the prairie-land. He recognized a superior race, but not a nobler one. White men would glut the treasures of water and earth. The Indian had been born to hunt his meat, to repel his red foes, to watch the clouds and serve his gods. But these white men would come like a great flight of grasshoppers to cover the length and breadth of the prairie-land. The buffalo would roll away, like a dust-cloud, in the distance, and never return. No meat for the Indian β€” no grass for his mustang β€” no place for his home. The Sioux must fight till he died or be driven back into waste places where grief and hardship would end him. Red and dusky, the sun was setting beyond the desert. The old chief swept aloft his arm, and then in his acceptance of the inevitable bitterness he stood in magnificent austerity, somber as death, seeing in this railroad train creeping, fading into the ruddy sunset, a symbol of the destiny of the Indian β€” vanishing β€” vanishing β€” vanishing β€”
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Zane Grey (The U. P. Trail)
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For the rest the old trapper was glad to see the last of habitations, and of men, and of the railroad. Slingerland hated that great, shining steel band of progress connecting East and West. Every ringing sledge-hammer blow had sung out the death-knell of the trapper’s calling. This railroad spelled the end of the wilderness. What one group of greedy men had accomplished others would imitate; and the grass of the plains would be burned, the forests blackened, the fountains dried up in the valleys, and the wild creatures of the mountains driven and hunted and exterminated. The end of the buffalo had come β€” the end of the Indian was in sight β€” and that of the fur-bearing animal and his hunter must follow soon with the hurrying years. Slingerland hated the railroad, and he could not see as Neale did, or any of the engineers or builders. This old trapper had the vision of the Indian β€” that far-seeing eye cleared by distance and silence, and the force of the great, lonely hills. Progress was great, but nature undespoiled was greater. If a race could not breed all stronger men, through its great movements, it might better not breed any, for the bad over-multiplied the good, and so their needs magnified into greed. Slingerland saw many shining bands of steel across the plains and mountains, many stations and hamlets and cities, a growing and marvelous prosperity from timber, mines, farms, and in the distant end β€” a gutted West.
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Zane Grey (The U. P. Trail)
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The wind blew steadily in from the desert seeping the sand in low, thin sheets. Afternoon waned, the sun sank, twilight crept over the barren waste. There were no sounds but the seep of sand, the moan of wind, the mourn of wolf. Loneliness came with the night that mantled Beauty Stanton’s grave. Shadows trooped in from the desert and the darkness grew black. On that slope the wind always blew, and always the sand seeped, dusting over everything, imperceptibly changing the surface of the earth. The desert was still at work. Nature was no respecter of graves. Life was nothing. Radiant, cold stars blinked pitilessly out of the vast blue-black vault of heaven. But there hovered a spirit beside this woman’s last resting-place β€” a spirit like the night, sad, lonely, silent, mystical, immense. And as it hovered over hers so it hovered over other nameless graves. In the eternal workshop of nature, the tenants of these unnamed and forgotten graves would mingle dust of good with dust of evil, and by the divinity of death resolve equally into the elements again.
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Zane Grey (The U. P. Trail)
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END
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Zane Grey (Sunset Pass: A Western Story)
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the foot of his chair.
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Zane Grey (The Second Western Megapack: 25 Classic Western Stories)
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the
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey: The Ultimate Collection - 49 Works - Classic Westerns and Much More)
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I want to know who I can trust." "Las Vegas says we're shore in for it now." "Roy, what do you think?
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Zane Grey (Dorn of the Mountains)
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Ages before men had lived on the earth, there had been the creatures of the wilderness, and the holes of the rocks and the nests of the trees, and rain, frost, heat, dew, sunlight, and night, storm and calm, the honey of the wild flower and the instinct of the bee-all the beautiful and multiple forms of life with their inscrutable design. To know something of them and to love them was to be close to the kingdom of earth-perhaps to the greater kingdom of heaven. For whatever breathed and moved was a part of that creation. The coo of the dove, the lichen on the mossy rock, the mourn of a hunting wolf, and the murmur of the waterfall, the ever-green and growing tips of the spruces and the thunderbolts along the battlements of the heights-these one and all must be actuated by the Great Spirit-that incalculable thing in the universe that had produced man and soul.
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Zane Grey (Dorn of the Mountains)
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review
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Zane Grey (Rogue River Feud)
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line.” King strode on in the direction Shurd had taken. Neale pondered a moment, perplexed, impressed, and grateful to his comrade. He heard remarks among the laborers and he saw the flagman Casey
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Zane Grey (Union Pacific: A Western Story)
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Saddle horses lined the hitching-rails as far as Brite could see. Canvas-covered wagons, chuck-wagons, buckboards, vehicles of all Western types, stood outside the saddle horses. And up one side and down the other a procession ambled in the dust. On the wide sidewalk a throng of booted, belted, spurred men wended their way up or down. The saloons roared. Black-sombreroed, pale-faced, tight-lipped men stood beside the wide portals of the gaming-dens. Beautiful wrecks of womanhood, girls with havoc in their faces and the look of birds of prey in their eyes, waited in bare-armed splendor to be accosted. Laughter without mirth ran down the walk. The stores were full. Cowboys in twos and threes and sixes trooped by, young, lithe, keen of eye, bold of aspect, gay and reckless. Hundreds of cowboys passed Brite in that long block from the hotel to the intersecting street. And every boy gave him a pang. These were the toll of the trail and of Dodge. It might have been the march of empire, the tragedy of progress, but it was heinous to Brite. He would never send another boy to his death.
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Zane Grey (The Trail Driver: A Western Story)
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He smiled a little wearily. β€œWal, old β€” trail driver, we pay,” he whispered, feebly. β€œI reckon β€” I cain’t β€” wait for β€” little gray-eyed β€” Ann!”.
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Zane Grey (The Trail Driver: A Western Story)
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Peavey
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Zane Grey (The Second Western Megapack: 25 Classic Western Stories)
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third.
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Zane Grey (The Redheaded Outfield and Other Baseball Stories)
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Soon he would be walking a beat in one of the training camps, with a bugle call in his ears and the turmoil of thousands of soldiers in the making around him; soon, too, he would be walking the deck of a transport.....feeling under his feet the soil of a foreign country, with hideous and incomparable war shrieking its shell furies and its man anguish all about him.
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Zane Grey (The Desert Of Wheat)
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I have spent most of my life trying to figure out what goes on inside your mind,” he said. β€œFirst I thought you were slow and then I thought you might be red. Finally it occurred to me that you are just a sentimentalist. You believe in the open range, the code, the nobility of the sufferin’ cowpoke and the emptiness of bankers’ heartsβ€”all stuff you picked up from Zane Grey .Β .Β .” In fact I have not read Zane Grey, though I do not mind Wister, but explaining these distinctions to my brother is pointless.
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Philipp Meyer (The Son)
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however, cut out much that I wanted, saying the thing to think of was a
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Doma Publishing House (Zane Grey Collection: 23 Works)
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She seemed the incarnation of girlish scorn and wilful
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Doma Publishing House (Zane Grey Collection: 23 Works)
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into loving me. I've
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Zane Grey (The Rustlers of Pecos County)
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So must you, so must we all take chances. You are here. Find your work and do it cheerfully, honestly, and let the future take care of itself. And let me sayβ€”do not be offendedβ€”beware of idleness and drink. They are as great a dangerβ€”nay, greater than the Indians.
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Doma Publishing House (Zane Grey Collection: 23 Works)
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did not at first give vague disappointment, a confounding of reality, a disenchantment of contrast with what the mind had conceived.
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Zane Grey (The Rainbow Trail)
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his ideal of living.
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Zane Grey (The Man of the Forest)
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Red Lake must be his Rubicon. Either he must enter the unknown to seek, to strive, to find, or turn back and fail and never know and be always haunted.
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Zane Grey (The Rainbow Trail)
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himself
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Zane Grey (WILD WEST Boxed Set: 150+ Western Classics in One Volume: Cowboy Adventures, Yukon & Oregon Trail Tales, Famous Outlaw Classics, Gold Rush Adventures ... The Last of the Mohicans, Rimrock Trail…))
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I was a preacher, and now I am thirsting for vengeance,” answered Christy, his face clouding darkly. β€œWait until you learn what frontier life means. You are young here yet; you are flushed with the success of your teaching; you have lived a short time in this quiet village, where, until the last few days, all has been serene. You know nothing of the strife, of the necessity of fighting, of the cruelty which makes up this border existence. Only two years have hardened me so that I actually pant for the blood of the renegade who has robbed me. A frontiersman must take his choice of succumbing or cutting his way through flesh and bone. Blood will be spilled; if not yours, then your foe’s. The pioneers run from the plow to the fight; they halt in the cutting of corn to defend themselves, and in winter must battle against cold and hardship, which would be less cruel if there was time in summer to prepare for winter, for the savages leave them hardly an opportunity to plant crops. How many pioneers have given up, and gone back east? Find me any who would not return home to-morrow, if they could. All that brings them out here is the chance for a home, and all that keeps them out here is the poor hope of finally attaining their object. Always there is a possibility of future prosperity. But this generation, if it survives, will never see prosperity and happiness. What does this border life engender in a pioneer who holds his own in it? Of all things, not Christianity. He becomes a fighter, keen as the redskin who steals through the coverts.
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Zane Grey (The Spirit of the Border)
β€œ
But that never was true. Glenn was as sane as I am, and, my dear, that's pretty sane, I'll have you remember. But he must have suffered some terrible blight to his spirit--some blunting of his soul.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
β€œ
Aunt Mary, you hurt my feelings." Β "Well, child, I'm glad to learn your feelings are hurt," returned the aunt. "I'm sure, Carley, that underneath all this--this blase ultra something you've acquired, there's a real heart. Only you must hurry and listen to it--or--
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
β€œ
And the reason that she did not falter and fail in this terrible situation was because her despair, great as it was, did not equal her love.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
β€œ
Don’t apologize. It’s a sign of weakness." Captain Nathan Brittles, "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon "(1949)
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Zane Grey
β€œ
The sun lost its heat and wore down to the western horizon, where it changed from white to gold and rested like a huge ball about to roll on its golden shadows down the
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Zane Grey (WILD WEST Boxed Set: 150+ Western Classics in One Volume: Cowboy Adventures, Yukon & Oregon Trail Tales, Famous Outlaw Classics, Gold Rush Adventures ... The Last of the Mohicans, Rimrock Trail…))
β€œ
his phantoms of peace. Majestically they formed around him, marshalling and mustering in ceremonious state, and moved to lay upon him their passionless serenity.
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
used
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Zane Grey (The Zane Grey Megapack)
β€œ
She had grown now not to blame any man, honest miner or bloody bandit. She blamed only gold. She doubted its value. She could not see it a blessing. She absolutely knew its driving power to change the souls of men. Could she ever forget that vast ant-hill of toiling diggers and washers, blind and deaf and dumb to all save gold?
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Zane Grey (The Border Legion)
β€œ
Joan felt that she would always be haunted and would always suffer that pang for Kells. She would never lie down in the peace and quiet of her home, wherever that might be, without picturing Kells, dark and forbidding and burdened, pacing some lonely cabin or riding a lonely trail or lying with his brooding face upturned to the lonely stars. Sooner or later he would meet his doom. It was inevitable. She pictured over that sinister scene of the dangling forms; but no β€” Kells would never end that way. Terrible as he was, he had not been born to be hanged. He might be murdered in his sleep, by one of that band of traitors who were traitors because in the nature of evil they had to be. But more likely some gambling-hell, with gold and life at stake, would see his last fight. These bandits stole gold and gambled among themselves and fought. And that fight which finished Kells must necessarily be a terrible one. She seemed to see into a lonely cabin where a log fire burned low and lamps flickered and blue smoke floated in veils and men lay prone on the floor β€” Kells, stark and bloody, and the giant Gulden, dead at last and more terrible in death, and on the rude table bags of gold and dull, shining heaps of gold, and scattered on the floor, like streams of sand and useless as sand, dust of gold β€” the Destroyer. ZANE GREY. THE BORDER LEGION (Kindle Locations 4367-4376).
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Zane Grey (The Border Legion)
β€œ
A bandit, then, in the details of his life, the schemes, troubles, friendships, relations, was no different from any other kind of a man. He was human, and things that might constitute black evil for observers were dear to him, a part of him.
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Zane Grey (The Border Legion)
β€œ
She sensed in him loneliness, hunger for the sound of a voice. She had heard her uncle speak of the loneliness of lonely camp-fires and how all men working or hiding or lost in the wilderness would see sweet faces in the embers and be haunted by soft voices.
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Zane Grey (The Border Legion)
β€œ
Armies of marching men told of that blight of nations old or youngβ€”war. These, and birds unnamable, and beasts unclassable, with dots and marks and hieroglyphics, recorded the history of a bygone people. Symbols they were of an era that had gone into the dim past, leaving only these marks, {Symbols recording the history of a bygone people.} forever unintelligible; yet while they stood, century after century, ineffaceable, reminders of the glory, the mystery, the sadness of life.
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Zane Grey (The Last of the Plainsmen)
β€œ
If you want fame or wealth or wolves, go out and hunt for them.
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Zane Grey (The Last of the Plainsmen)
β€œ
He meant the Grand Canyon was only a mood of nature, a bold promise, a beautiful record. He meant that mountains had sifted away in its dust, yet the canyon was young. Man was nothing, so let him be humble. This cataclysm of the earth, this playground of a river was not inscrutable; it was only inevitableβ€”as inevitable as nature herself. Millions of years in the bygone ages it had lain serene under a half moon; it would bask silent under a rayless sun, in the onward edge of time. It taught simplicity, serenity, peace. The eye that saw only the strife, the war, the decay, the ruin, or only the glory and the tragedy, saw not all the truth. It spoke simply, though its words were grand: "My spirit is the Spirit of Time, of Eternity, of God. Man is little, vain, vaunting. Listen. To-morrow he shall be gone. Peace! Peace!
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Zane Grey (The Last of the Plainsmen)
β€œ
Bern, it's divine to forgive your enemies. 'Let not the sun go down upon thy wrath.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
Every day I awake believingβ€”still believing. The day grows, and with it doubts, fears, and that black bat hate that bites hotter and hotter into my heart. Then comes nightβ€”
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
Jane smothered the glow and burn within her, ashamed of a passion for freedom that opposed her duty.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
The blindness I mean is blindness that keeps you from seein' the truth.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
Some of these wall-eyed fellers who look jest as if they was walkin' in the shadow of Christ himself, right down the sunny road, now they can think of things en' do things that are really hell-bent.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
She's mine. I'll fight to keep her safe from that old life. I've already seen her forget it. I love her. And if a beast ever rises in me I'll burn my hand off before I lay it on her with shameful intent. And, by God! sooner or later I'll kill the man who hid her and kept her in Deception Pass!
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
Give me four days. If I'm not back in four days you'll know I'm dead. For that only shall keep me." "Oh!" "Bess, I'll come back. There's dangerβ€”I wouldn't lie to youβ€”but I can take care of myself.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
the long-deferred breaking of the storm with a courage and embittered calm that had come to her in her extremity. Hope had not died. Doubt and fear, subservient to her will, no longer gave her sleepless nights and tortured days. Love remained. All that she had loved she now loved the more. She seemed to feel that she was defiantly flinging the wealth of her love in the face of misfortune and of hate. No day passed but she prayed for allβ€”and most fervently for her enemies. It troubled her that she had lost, or had never gained, the whole control of her mind. In some measure reason and wisdom and decision were locked in a chamber of her brain, awaiting a key. Power to think of some things was taken from her. Meanwhile, abiding a day of judgment, she fought ceaselessly to deny the bitter drops in her cup, to tear back the slow, the intangibly slow growth of a hot, corrosive lichen eating into her heart.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
Good and evil began to seem incomprehensibly blended in her judgment. It was her belief that evil could not come forth from good; yet here was a murderer who dwarfed in gentleness, patience, and love any man she had ever known.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
He saw the dark, slender, graceful outline of her form. A woman lay in his arms! And he held her closer. He who had been alone in the sad, silent watches of the night was not now and never must be again alone. He who had yearned for the touch of a hand felt the long tremble and the heart-beat of a woman.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
And you must forget what you areβ€”wereβ€”I mean, and be happy. When you remember that old life you are bitter, and it hurts me.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
That you should save meβ€”be so good and kindβ€”want to make me happyβ€”why, it's beyond belief. No wonder I'm wretched at the thought of your leaving me. But I'll be wretched and bitter no more. I promise you.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
I must tell youβ€”because you mightn't come back," she whispered. "You must know whatβ€”what I think of your goodnessβ€”of you. Always I've been tongue-tied. I seemed not to be grateful. It was deep in my heart. Even nowβ€”if I were other than I amβ€”I couldn't tell you. But I'm nothingβ€”only a rustler's girlβ€”namelessβ€”infamous. You've saved meβ€”
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage)
β€œ
And so on this rainbow day, with storms all around them, and blue sky above, they rode only as far as the valley. But from there, before they turned to go back, the monuments appeared close, and they loomed grandly with the background of purple bank and creamy cloud and shafts of golden lightning. They seemed like sentinels β€” guardians of a great and beautiful love born under their lofty heights, in the lonely silence of day, in the star-thrown shadow of night. They were like that love. And they held Lucy and Slone, calling every day, giving a nameless and tranquil content, binding them true to love, true to the sage and the open, true to that wild upland home.
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Zane Grey (Wildfire)
β€œ
and returned. To Duane the outlaw
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Zane Grey (The Zane Grey Megapack)
β€œ
It was wonderful country that faced him, cedar, piΓ±on and sage, colored hills and flats, walls of yellow rock stretch away, and dim purple mountains all around. If his keen eyes did not deceive him there was a bunch of wild horses grazing on top of the first hill.
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Zane Grey (Valley of Wild Horses)
β€œ
Because of this genuine love for horses, the beautiful wild-horse panorama beneath Pan swelled his heart. He gazed and gazed. From near to far the bands dotted the green-gray valley. Far away this valley floor shaded into blue. Near at hand the colors were easily distinguishable. Blacks and bays, whites and chestnuts, pintos that resembled zebras dotted this wild pasture land. The closest band to where Pan and Blinky stood could not have been more than a mile distant, in a straight line. A shiny black stallion was the leader of this herd. He was acting strangely, too, trotting forward and halting, tossing his head and long black mane.
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Zane Grey (Valley of Wild Horses)
β€œ
Dad, I don't know women very well, but I reckon they live by their hearts. You
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Zane Grey (Valley of Wild Horses)
β€œ
Morning dawned bright and sparkling after the rain. The air was keen and crisp. The cedars glistened as if decked with diamonds. Pan felt the sweet scent of the damp dust, and it gave him a thrill and a longing for the saddle and the open country.
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Zane Grey (Valley of Wild Horses)
β€œ
All the saddle horses, and even some of the pack animals, were affected by the scent of the wild herd. Freedom still lived deep down in their hearts. That was why a broken horse, no matter how gentle, became the wildest of the wild when he got free.
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Zane Grey (Valley of Wild Horses)
β€œ
A valley that had some of the characteristics of a canyon yawned beneath, so deep and wide that it appeared like a blue lake, so long that he could only see the north end, which notched under a rugged mountain slope, green and black and golden and white according to the successive steps toward the heights. The height upon which he stood was the last of the ridges, for the elevation that lay directly across was a noble range of foothills, timbered, canyoned, apparently insurmountable for horses. Gray cliffs stood out of the green, crags of yellow rock mounted like castles.
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Zane Grey (Valley of Wild Horses)
β€œ
Dusk settled down into this neck of the great valley. Coyotes barked out in the open. From the heights pealed down the mournful blood-curdling, yet beautiful, bay of a wolf. The rosy afterglow of sunset lingered a long time. The place was shut in, closed about by brushy steeps, redolent of sage. A tiny stream of swift water sang faintly down over rocks. And before darkness had time to enfold hollow and slope and horizon, the moon slid up to defeat the encroaching night and blanch the hills with silvery light.
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Zane Grey (Valley of Wild Horses)
β€œ
For a few moments he indulged his old joy in range and mountain, stretching, rising on his right, away into the purple distance. Something had heightened its beauty. How softly gray the rolling range landβ€”how black the timbered slopes! The town before him sat like a hideous blotch on a fair landscape. It forced his gaze over and beyond toward the west, where the late afternoon sun had begun to mellow and redden, edging the clouds with exquisite light. To the southward lay Arizona, land of painted mesas and storied canyon walls, of thundering streams and wild pine forests, of purple-saged valleys and grassy parks, set like mosaics between the stark desert mountains.
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Zane Grey (Valley of Wild Horses)
β€œ
The spell of the desert comes back to me, as it always will come. I see the veils, like purple smoke, in the caΓ±ons, and I feel the silence. And it seems that again I must try to pierce both and to get at the strange wild life of the last American wilderness-- wild still, almost, as it ever was.
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Zane Grey
β€œ
Life is hard enough, God knows, but it's unfailin' true in the end to the man or woman who finds the best in them an' stands by it." "Uncle John, y'u talk soβ€”so
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
I will live them. I will have faith and hope and love, for I am his daughter," she said.
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
Jack had met me half-way that would have been better for him. An' for me, because I get good out of helpin' any one." His
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
the strong feeling beginning to be manifested to Wade was not the fun of matching wits and luck with his antagonists, nor a desire to accumulate money--for his recklessness disproved that--but the liberation of the gambling passion.
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
He saw how some divine guidance had directed his footsteps to this home. How many years had it taken him to get there!
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
The other sleepers lay calm and white in the starlight. There was something nameless in that canyon, and whether or not it was what the Indian embodied in the great Nonnezoshe . . . the truth was that there was a spirit.
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Zane Grey (Tales of Lonely Trails)
β€œ
Unless you begin to control your temper, to forget yourself, to kill your wild impulses, to be kind, to learn what love is--you'll never last!...
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
You must use that hope an' faith to help you get well.
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
But he clung to hope, to faith in life, to the victory of the virtuous, to the defeat of evil.
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
He was thinking that if he had his life to live over again he would begin at once to find happiness in other people's happiness.
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
Hard work makes for what I reckon you like in a man, but don't understand. As I look back over my life--an' let me say, young fellar, it's been a tough one--what I remember most an' feel best over are the hardest jobs I ever did, an' those that cost the most sweat an' blood." As
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
alacrity
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Zane Grey (The Man of the Forest)
β€œ
Likewise he believed that men wandering or lost in the wilderness often reversed that brutal order of life and became noble, wonderful, super-human.
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
wild men in wild places, fighting cold, heat, starvation, thirst, barrenness, facing the elements in all their ferocity, usually retrograded, descended to the savage, lost all heart and soul and became mere brutes.
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
perhaps he and this man, alone on the desert, driven there by life's mysterious and remorseless motive, were to see each other through God's eyes. His
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
and of storehouses and of freight-trainsβ€”destruction
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey: The Ultimate Collection - 49 Works - Classic Westerns and Much More)
β€œ
or
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Zane Grey (The Young Forester [with Biographical Introduction])
β€œ
unquenchable
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Zane Grey (The Day of the Beast (Xist Classics))
β€œ
About noon the following day, the horses
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Zane Grey (The Last of the Plainsmen (Annotated))
β€œ
Ages of rain had run down the slope, circling, eddying in depressions, wearing deep round holes. There had been dry seasons, accumulations of dust, wind-blown seeds, and cedars rose wonderfully out of solid rock. But these were not beautiful cedars. They were gnarled, twisted, into weird contortions, as if growth were torture, dead at the tops, shrunken, gray, and old. Theirs had been a bitter fight.
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Zane Grey
β€œ
The weird cedars, like great demons and witches chained to the rock and writhing in silent anguish, loomed up with wide and twisting naked arms.
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Zane Grey
β€œ
It was difficult to define an outlaw in a country where there was no law.
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Zane Grey (Robbers' Roost)
β€œ
We cannot possibly expect, and should not desire, that the great bulk of the populace embark on a mental and spiritual voyage for which very few people are equipped and which even fewer have survived. They have, after all, their indispensable work to do, even as you and I. What we are distressed about, and should be, when we speak of the state of mass culture in this country, is the overwhelming torpor and bewilderment of the people. The people who run the mass media are not all villains and they are not all cowardsβ€”though I agree, I must say, with Dwight Macdonald’s forceful suggestion that many of them are not very bright. (Why should they be? They, too, have risen from the streets to a high level of cultural attainment. They, too, are positively afflicted by the world’s highest standard of living and what is probably the world’s most bewilderingly empty way of life.) But even those who are bright are handicapped by their audience: I am less appalled by the fact that Gunsmoke is produced than I am by the fact that so many people want to see it. In the same way, I must add, that a thrill of terror runs through me when I hear that the favorite author of our President is Zane Grey.
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James Baldwin (The Cross of Redemption: Uncollected Writings)
β€œ
They rode, eighteen ill-natured, uncomfortable cowboys, tumultuously away from the camp, where canvas bulged and swayed, and loose corners cracked like pistol shots, over the hill where even the short, prairie grass crouched and flattened itself against the sod; where stray pebbles, loosened by the ungentle tread of pitching hoofs, skidded twice as far as in calm weather.
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Zane Grey (50 Eternal Masterpieces of Western Stories)
β€œ
Panhandle Smith was the red-faced cook, merry,
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey: The Ultimate Collection - 49 Works - Classic Westerns and Much More)
β€œ
if she had just climbed a laborsome
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Zane Grey (Dorn of the Mountains)
β€œ
Zane Grey, Max Brand, and Louis L’Amour
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Jon Tuska (The Lawless West)
β€œ
Many were the last resting-places of toilers of the wheat there on those hills. And surely in the long frontier days, and in the ages before, men innumerable had gone back to the earth from which they had sprung. The dwelling-places of men were beautiful; it was only life that was sad. In this poignant, revealing hour Kurt could not resist human longings and regrets, though he gained incalculable strength from these two graves on the windy slope. It was not for any man to understand to the uttermost the meaning of life.
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Zane Grey (The Desert Of Wheat)
β€œ
American should read the signs of the times, realize the crisis, and meet it in an American way. Otherwise we are done as a race. Money is God in the older countries. But it should never become God in America. If it does we will make the fall of Rome pale into insignificance.
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Zane Grey (The Call of the Canyon)
β€œ
The windows of the
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Zane Grey (The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
the trail, and returned home as he had left, stealthily, like an Indian.
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Zane Grey (Wildfire)
β€œ
as it is. There's good an
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Zane Grey (The Man of the Forest (Xist Classics))
β€œ
Men rise on steppin'-stones of their dead selves to higher things!...
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
strong, stirring instant as with fascinated eyes I watched
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey: The Ultimate Collection - 49 Works - Classic Westerns and Much More)
β€œ
keep me from ridin’ trail. But you’re acting
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Zane Grey (The Lost Wagon Train: A Western Story)
β€œ
Oh, Glenn!--forgive--me! " she faltered. "I was only--talking. What do I know? Oh, I am blind--blind and little!
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
β€œ
We must dress to make other women jealous and to attract men.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
β€œ
Once he had said to her that a man should never be judged by the result of his labors, but by the nature of his effort.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
β€œ
False education, false standards, false environment had developed her into a woman who imagined she must feed her body on the milk and honey of indulgence.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
β€œ
Belding hesitated and looked
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey Classics: To The Last Man & The Mysterious Rider)
β€œ
get it, but I hoped he would be all afternoon on the job. β€œHurry, Cap!” was all I said. Ordinarily Dan is the swiftest of boatmen. To-day he was slower than molasses and all he did went wrong. What he said about the luck was more than melancholy. I had no way to gauge my own feelings because I had never had such an experience before. Nor had I ever heard or read of any one having it. We got a bait on and the kite out just in time to reach the first and larger school. I was so excited that I did not see we were heading right into it. My intent gaze was riveted upon my bait as it skimmed the surface. The swells were long, low, smooth mounds. My bait went out of sight behind one. It was then I saw water fly high and I felt a tug. I jerked so hard I nearly fell over. My bait shot over the top of the swell. Then that swell opened and burstβ€”a bronze back appeared. He missed the hook. Another tuna, also missing, leaped into the airβ€”a fish of one hundred and fifty pounds, glittering green and silver and blue, jaws open, fins stiff, tail
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Zane Grey (Tales of Fishes)
β€œ
twenty-foot-square, furious splash as he hooked himself. I sat spellbound. I
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Zane Grey (Tales of Fishes)
β€œ
Surely with all its greatness it could not be lost; surely in the end it must triumph over evil.
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Zane Grey (To The Last Man: 8 Western Novels - Collection)
β€œ
Her forefathers had been Vikings, savage chieftains who bore no cross and brooked no hindrance to their will.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage: Filibooks Classics (Illustrated))
β€œ
lacked
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Zane Grey (Dust and Thorns: A Zane Grey Collection, Volume One (Twelve novels in one volume!))
β€œ
What an awful trail! Did you carry me up here?" "I did, surely," replied he.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage: Filibooks Classics (Illustrated))
β€œ
changing
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Zane Grey (The Desert Crucible)
β€œ
he set out for Berkeley County, Virginia, to tell his people of the magnificent country he had discovered.
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Zane Grey (The Zane Grey Megapack)
β€œ
joy that was half a sob she fell upon her knees and clasped the little burro's neck. Noddle wearily flapped his long brown ears, wearily nodded his white nose; then evidently considering the incident closed, he went lazily to sleep.
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Zane Grey (Heritage of the Desert)
β€œ
Small country, small men.
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Zane Grey (50 Eternal Masterpieces of Western Stories)
β€œ
when he returned he told
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Zane Grey (60 WESTERNS: Cowboy Adventures, Yukon & Oregon Trail Tales, Famous Outlaws, Gold Rush Adventures & much more: Riders of the Purple Sage, The Night Horseman, ... of the West, A Texas Cow-Boy, The Prairie…)
β€œ
Peg, are you goin' to throw me down, too?” β€œMr. Arthurs! Iβ€”Iβ€”
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Zane Grey (The Young Pitcher)
β€œ
The coach put his hand on Ken's knee.
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Zane Grey (The Young Pitcher)
β€œ
So the struggle for existence continued till I seemed to see all the world before me with its myriads of wild creatures preying upon one another; the spirit of nature, unquenchable as the fires of the sun, continuing ceaseless and imperturbable in its inscrutable design.
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Zane Grey (Tales of Fishes)
β€œ
A sharp clip-crop of iron-shod hoofs deadened and died away, and clouds of yellow dust drifted from under the cottonwoods out over the sage.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage: Filibooks Classics (Illustrated))
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Is it not the loss of things which makes life bitter?
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Zane Grey (Tales of Fishes)
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I've seen runnin' molasses that was quicker 'n him.
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Zane Grey (Riders of the Purple Sage: By Zane Grey - Illustrated)
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When he had gotten rid of his exuberance he sat down at once to write to his brother Hal about it, and also his forest-ranger friend, Dick Leslie, with whom he had spent an adventurous time the last summer.
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Zane Grey (The Young Pitcher)
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Ken sat glued to his seat in mingled fear and wrath. Was he to be the butt of those overbearing sophomores?
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Zane Grey (The Young Pitcher)
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There was a bold gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face.
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Zane Grey (The Young Pitcher)
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Ken was absolutely powerless. His clothes were torn to tatters in a twinkling; they were soon torn completely off, leaving only his shoes and socks.
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Zane Grey
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Ken thrilled in all his being.
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Zane Grey (The Young Pitcher)
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Aboot the gold Syvertsen stole
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Zane Grey (Twin Sombreros: A Western Story)
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only back of the bar. A white-clad figure rushed
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Zane Grey (Desert Gold)
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He ran his hands over Ken's smooth skin and felt of the muscles
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Zane Grey (The Young Pitcher)
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stalwart
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Zane Grey (60 WESTERNS: Cowboy Adventures, Yukon & Oregon Trail Tales, Famous Outlaws, Gold Rush Adventures & much more: Riders of the Purple Sage, The Night Horseman, ... of the West, A Texas Cow-Boy, The Prairie…)
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Strangely it came to Gale then that he was glad. Yaqui had returned to his own β€” the great spaces, the desolation, the solitude β€” to the trails he had trodden when a child, trails haunted now by ghosts of his people, and ever by his gods. Gale realized that in the Yaqui he had known the spirit of the desert, that this spirit had claimed all which was wild and primitive in him.
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Zane Grey (Desert Gold)
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yet she did not miss the poisoned honey of some tongues or the expressive glances of many eyes. Ina was quick to grasp that
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Zane Grey (Forlorn River)
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viands,
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Zane Grey (Zane Grey: The Ultimate Collection - 49 Works - Classic Westerns and Much More)