Sally Ransom Character Analysis

But Emmett hadn’t given [Sally] much cause for expectations since he went to Salina. […] He hadn’t asked her to do a thing.

Was he grateful to discover she had chosen to do these things on his and Billy’s behalf? Of course he was. But being grateful was one thing, and being beholden, that was another thing altogether.

––[…] after fifty-five years in Nebraska, I think I can tell a stayer from a goer.

––Is that so, I said. Then tell me, Mr. Ransom: Which am I?

You should have seen his face when I said that. […]

––I have indulged you in your manner and your habits; indulged you in your temper and your tongue. But Sally, so help me God, I have come to see that I may have done you a terrible disservice. For by giving you full rein, I have allowed you to become a willful young woman, one who is accustomed to nursing her furies and speaking her mind, and who is, in all likelihood, unsuited to matrimony.

So, if the will to move is as old as mankind […], what happens to a man like my father? What switch is flicked […] that takes the God-given will for motion and transforms it into the will for staying put?

[…] If you asked them what brought about the change, they will cloak it in the language of virtue. They will tell you that the American Dream is to settle down, raise a family, make an honest living. […] But maybe the will to stay put stems not from a man’s virtues but from his vices. […] I do believe that the Good Lord has a mission for each and every one of us […]. But maybe […] what He hopes for us is that––like His only begotten son––we will go out into the world and find it for ourselves.

And it was a comfort to be doing this work, to be doing this work in Sally’s company without either of them feeling the need to speak.

Emmett could tell that Sally was ashamed as he was, and there was comfort in that too. […] the comfort of knowing one’s sense of right and wrong was shared by another, and thus was somehow more true.

Sitting together on a nearby bench were Woolly and Billy, smiling at the floor plan of the house in California. And there was Sally leaning over a pram to tuck in the blanket of the child in her care. And there by the flower cart was Sister Sarah looking wistful and forlorn. And right there, not more than fifty feet away, standing by the door of his bright yellow car, was Emmett, looking honorable and upright.

[…] I could hear the distant chiming of a clock. Only it wasn’t a clock, and it wasn’t distant. It was the gold watch that had been tucked in the pocket of my vest […].

But Emmett hadn’t given [Sally] much cause for expectations since he went to Salina. […] He hadn’t asked her to do a thing.

Was he grateful to discover she had chosen to do these things on his and Billy’s behalf? Of course he was. But being grateful was one thing, and being beholden, that was another thing altogether.

––[…] after fifty-five years in Nebraska, I think I can tell a stayer from a goer.

––Is that so, I said. Then tell me, Mr. Ransom: Which am I?

You should have seen his face when I said that. […]

––I have indulged you in your manner and your habits; indulged you in your temper and your tongue. But Sally, so help me God, I have come to see that I may have done you a terrible disservice. For by giving you full rein, I have allowed you to become a willful young woman, one who is accustomed to nursing her furies and speaking her mind, and who is, in all likelihood, unsuited to matrimony.

So, if the will to move is as old as mankind […], what happens to a man like my father? What switch is flicked […] that takes the God-given will for motion and transforms it into the will for staying put?

[…] If you asked them what brought about the change, they will cloak it in the language of virtue. They will tell you that the American Dream is to settle down, raise a family, make an honest living. […] But maybe the will to stay put stems not from a man’s virtues but from his vices. […] I do believe that the Good Lord has a mission for each and every one of us […]. But maybe […] what He hopes for us is that––like His only begotten son––we will go out into the world and find it for ourselves.

And it was a comfort to be doing this work, to be doing this work in Sally’s company without either of them feeling the need to speak.

Emmett could tell that Sally was ashamed as he was, and there was comfort in that too. […] the comfort of knowing one’s sense of right and wrong was shared by another, and thus was somehow more true.

Sitting together on a nearby bench were Woolly and Billy, smiling at the floor plan of the house in California. And there was Sally leaning over a pram to tuck in the blanket of the child in her care. And there by the flower cart was Sister Sarah looking wistful and forlorn. And right there, not more than fifty feet away, standing by the door of his bright yellow car, was Emmett, looking honorable and upright.

[…] I could hear the distant chiming of a clock. Only it wasn’t a clock, and it wasn’t distant. It was the gold watch that had been tucked in the pocket of my vest […].