“When he came out of the house the last intense light of the winter day was pouring over the town below him, and the bushy tree-tops and the church steeples gleamed like copper…
…he would never go away from Haverford; he had been through too much here ever to quit the place for good. What was a man’s ‘home town’ anyway, but the place where he had had disappointments and had learned to bear them?”
— Willa Cather, from Lucy Gayheart, 1935
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