Barbara Kingsolver Quote

Prodigal summer, the season of extravagant procreation. It could wear out everything in its path with its passionate excesses, but nothing alive with wings or a heart or a seed curled into itself in the ground could resist welcoming it back when it came.


Prodigal Summer (ed. 2008)


Prodigal summer, the season of extravagant procreation. It could wear out everything in its path with its passionate excesses, but nothing alive with ...

Prodigal summer, the season of extravagant procreation. It could wear out everything in its path with its passionate excesses, but nothing alive with ...

Prodigal summer, the season of extravagant procreation. It could wear out everything in its path with its passionate excesses, but nothing alive with ...

Prodigal summer, the season of extravagant procreation. It could wear out everything in its path with its passionate excesses, but nothing alive with ...