Robert W. Neill, Jr., Real Estate
Broker
662-237-6969 (Landline)
601-519-0075 (Text, Whatsapp, Signal)
Send
Us A Note | Properties For
Sale
WE NEED LISTINGS
ON LAND FOR SALE
Buyer's Agent
for farm, land and real estate properties
Buyers often pay far too much when buying land and
real estate when they are not represented by an
agent. Every real estate buyer has the legal right at all
times to be represented by their own real estate agent.
There is no additional cost to be represented by your own
agent on listed properties with the commission
already set to be paid by the seller. Buyers have the
right at any time to retain an agent to represent them.
The result of not having your own
Buyer's Agent can end up like not having an
attorney to represent you in court
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Robert W. Neill, Jr. is a
sixth-generation farm, land, and business owner and a
licensed real estate broker who
represents buyers of farm, timber, hunting, recreation,
commercial, industrial, and special use land properties.
He also represents sellers who wish to sell their land
tracts and other types of real estate.
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We need the tonic of wildness...At
the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn
all things,
we require that all things be mysterious and
unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild,
unsurveyed
and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never
have enough of nature.”
- Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods
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Past the flannel plains and
blacktop graphs and skylines of canted rust, and past the
tobacco-brown river
overhung with weeping trees and coins of sunlight through
them on the water downriver, to the place beyond
the windbreak, where untilled fields simmer shrilly in
the A.M. heat: shattercane, lamb's-quarter
, cutgrass, sawbrier, nutgrass, jimsonweed, wild mint,
dandelion, foxtail, muscadine, spinecabbage,
goldenrod, creeping charlie, butter-print, nightshade,
ragweed, wild oat, vetch, butcher grass,
invaginate volunteer beans, all heads gently nodding in a
morning breeze like a mother's s
oft hand on your cheek. An arrow of starlings fired from
the windbreak's thatch. The glitter of dew
that stays where it is and steams all day. A sunflower,
four more, one bowed, and horses in
the distance standing rigid and still as toys. All
nodding. Electric sounds of insects at their business.
Ale-colored sunshine and pale sky and whorls of cirrus so
high they cast no shadow.
Insects all business all the time. Quartz and chert and
schist and chondrite iron scabs in granite.
Very old land. Look around you. The horizon trembling,
shapeless. We are all of us brothers.
- David Foster Wallace, The Pale King
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