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— Janet Fitch"No matter where I was, my compass pointed west. I would always know what time it was in California."
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always there is a sort of dream of air between you and the hills of California, a veil of unreality in the intervening air. It gives the hills the bloom that peaches have, or grapes in the dew.
— Stella Benson
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In California there were nuggets the size of walnuts lying on the ground—or so it was said, and truth travels slowly when rumors have wings of gold.
— Cherie Priest
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