"Even the street, the sunshine, the very air had a special Sunday
quality. We walked differently on Sundays, with greater propriety and
stateliness. Greetings were more formal, more subdued, voices more
meticulously polite. Everything was so smooth, bland, polished. And
genuinely so, because this was Sunday. In church the rustling and the
stillness were alike pervaded with the knowledge that all was for the
best. Propriety ruled the universe. God was in His Heaven, and we were
in our Sunday clothes."
Rose Wilder Lane (1886–1965), U.S. author. Old Hometown, ch. 1 (1935)
Remembering Sundays in the small Nebraska town where she grew up.