Who is Willa Cather

Willa Sibert Cather (; born Wilella Sibert Cather; December 7, 1873 – April 24, 1947) was an American writer known for her novels of life on the Great Plains, including O Pioneers!, The Song of the Lark, and My Ántonia. In 1923, she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for One of Ours, a novel set during World War I.

Willa Cather and her family moved from Virginia to Webster County, Nebraska, when she was nine years old. The family later settled in the town of Red Cloud. Shortly after graduating from the University of Nebraska–Lincoln, Cather moved to Pittsburgh for ten years, supporting herself as a magazine editor and high school English teacher. At the age of 33, she moved to New York City, her primary home for the rest of her life, though she also traveled widely and spent con...
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Willa Cather Poems

  • Grandmither, Think Not I Forget
    Grandmither, think not I forget, when I come back to town,
    An' wander the old ways again, an' tread them up and down.
    I never smell the clover bloom, nor see the swallows pass,
    Wi'out I mind how good ye were unto a little lass;...
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Top 10 most used topics by Willa Cather

Rose 1 Beneath 1 Good 1 White 1 I Love You 1 Winter 1 Sunset 1 Summer 1 Snow 1 Sleep 1

Willa Cather Quotes

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Comments about Willa Cather

Brian_scoles: there would only be sun and sky, and one would float off into them, like the tawny hawks which sailed over our heads making slow shadows on the grass.” ― willa cather, my Ántonia one of my favorites
Philip_d_conrad: the dead might as well try to speak to the living as the old to the young. (willa cather)
_lisachan_: on page 23 of 140 of una signora perduta, by willa cather
Marywerblin: “there are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.”—willa sibert cather born wilella sibert cather; december 7, 1873 april 24, 1947was an american writer known for her novels of life on the great plains, including o pioneers!, the song of the lark, and my Ántonia.
Rustytysor: “there are some things you learn best in calm and some in storm” willa cather
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Poem of the day

Stephen Crane Poem
Love Walked Alone.
 by Stephen Crane

Love walked alone.
The rocks cut her tender feet,
And the brambles tore her fair limbs.
There came a companion to her,
But, alas, he was no help,
For his name was heart's pain. .


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