Who is Willa Cather?

Willa Cather

Willa Sibert Cather (December 7, 1873 – April 24, 1947) was an American author who achieved recognition for her novels of frontier life on the Great Plains, in works such as O Pioneers!, My Ántonia, and The Song of the Lark. In 1923 she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for One of Ours (1922), a novel set during World War I. Cather grew up in Nebraska and graduated from the University of Nebraska. She lived and worked in Pittsburgh for ten years, then at the age of 33 she moved to New York, where she lived for the rest of her life.

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Some articles on Willa Cather:

Willa Cather Birthplace
... The Willa Cather Birthplace, also known as the Rachel E ... is the site near Gore, Frederick County, Virginia, where the Pulitzer Prize-winning author Willa Cather was born in 1873 ... Cather's maternal grandmother Rachel E ...
Willa Cather - Bibliography - Collections
1936, essays) The Old Beauty and Others (1948, three stories) Willa Cather On Writing (1949, essays) Five Stories (1956, published by the Estate of Willa Cather) This does not include recent ...
List Of Fictional Literature Featuring Opera - Authors C
... Carew The Contralto John Stewart Carter Full Fathom Five Willa Cather The Song of the Lark Willa Cather Lucy Gayheart Willa Cather A Wagner Matinee Frances Cavanah Two Loves for Jenny Lind Rodolfo ...

Famous quotes containing the words willa cather and/or cather:

    If the street life, not the Whitechapel street life, but that of the common but so-called respectable part of town is in any city more gloomy, more ugly, more grimy, more cruel than in London, I certainly don’t care to see it. Sometimes it occurs to one that possibly all the failures of this generation, the world over, have been suddenly swept into London, for the streets are a restless, breathing, malodorous pageant of the seedy of all nations.
    Willa Cather (1876–1947)

    To people off alone, as we were, there is something stirring about finding evidences of human labour and care in the soil of an empty country. It comes to you as a sort of message, makes you feel differently about the ground you walk over every day.
    —Willa Cather (1873–1947)