Closing Narration: It was a fine thing to know such people, and to be one of them, and to share in their abundant love. It was a poor time, but in it we were richer than we knew. Forty years have passed, but the voices from that house are as fresh as yesterday.
John: Liv, now we've never gone to sleep with a cross word. Let's not start now.
Olivia: I'm not cross, it's just that [the cow] sounds so human.
Anderson: Nine dollars, too much.
John: You agreed to it yesterday.
Anderson: I didn't see him yesterday. He's puny.
Grandpa: You suppose if I ever wander off with myself anyone would take notice?
Olivia: Grandpa, despite the fact that you don't give milk or have baby calves, we'd turn every stone.
Grandpa: All this fuss about one ol' cow, I wish I got that kind of attention around here.
John: One dollar, seventy-five cents electric company. Now, Liv, we just gotta start turning some lights off around here.
Liv: Have to start eating dinner by candle light.
Opening Narration: Walton's Mountain was an ever lasting presence in our lives. Whenever I could when I was growing up there during the depression years I would climb its slopes. Up there I could get lost in dreams, dreams of becoming a writer, of becoming a man. I knew no writers, so I had no writer to model myself after. But as a boy aspiring to manhood I had only to follow in the footsteps of a remarkable father.