Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Truth ... Is a breath, a wind, A shadow, a phantom Long have I pursued it, But never have I touched The hem of its garment.
Stephen Crane
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
Stephen Crane
Age: 81 †
Born: 1981
Born: November 1
Died: 1900
Died: June 5
Author
Baseball Player
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Newark
New Jersey
Johnston Smith
Breath
Breaths
Hem
Shadow
Phantom
Wind
Garment
Truth
Phantoms
Long
Garments
Never
Pursued
Touched
More quotes by Stephen Crane
When it occurs to a man that nature does not regard him as important, and that she feels she would not maim the universe by disposing of him, he at first wishes to throw bricks at the temple, and he hates deeply the fact that there are no bricks and no temples.
Stephen Crane
Unwind my riddle.Cruel as hawks the hours flyWounded men seldom come home to dieThe hard waves see an arm flung highScorn hits strong because of a lieYet there exists a mystic tie.Unwind my riddle.
Stephen Crane
If there is a witness to my little life,To my tiny throes and struggles,He sees a foolAnd it is not fine for gods to menace fools.
Stephen Crane
The wayfarer, Perceiving the pathway to truth, Was struck with astonishment. It was thickly grown with weeds. Ha, he said, I see that none has passed here In a long time. Later he saw that each weed Was a singular knife. Well, he mumbled at last, Doubtless there are other roads.
Stephen Crane
Let me into the darkness again.
Stephen Crane
Such an assemblage of the spraddle-legged men of the middle class, whose hands were bent and shoulders stooped from delving and constructing, had never appeared to an Asbury Park summer crowd, and the latter was vaguely amused.
Stephen Crane
Think as I think, said a man, or you are abominably wicked you are a toad. And after I thought of it, I said, I will, then, be a toad.
Stephen Crane
In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial, Who, squatting upon the ground, Held his heart in his hands, And ate of it. I said, ‘Is it good, friend?’ ‘It is bitter — bitter,’ he answered, ‘But I like it Because it is bitter, And because it is my heart.
Stephen Crane
A very little boy stood upon a heap of gravel for the honour of Rum Alley. He was throwing stones at howling urchins from Devil's Row, who were circling madly about the heap and pelting him. His infantile countenance was livid with the fury of battle. His small body was writhing in the delivery of oaths.
Stephen Crane
When the prophet, a complacent fat man, Arrived at the mountain-top He cried: Woe to my knowledge! I intended to see good white lands And bad black lands— But the scene is grey.
Stephen Crane
When the suicide arrived at the sky, the people there asked him: Why? He replied: Because no one admired me.
Stephen Crane
He vaguely desired to walk around and around the body and stare the impulse of the living to try to read in dead eyes the answer to the Question.
Stephen Crane
It was surprising that Nature had gone tranquilly on with her golden process in the midst of so much devilment.
Stephen Crane
Perhaps an individual must consider his own death to be the final phenomenon of nature.
Stephen Crane
I saw a man pursuing the horizon
Stephen Crane
Swift blazing flag of the regiment,Eagle with crest of red and gold,These men were born to drill and die.Point for them the virtue of slaughter,Make plain to them the excellence of killingAnd a field where a thousand corpses lie.
Stephen Crane
Sometimes, the most profound of awakenings come wrapped in the quietest of moments.
Stephen Crane
Philosophy should always know that indifference is a militant thing. It batters down the walls of cities and murders the women and children amid the flames and the purloining of altar vessels. When it goes away it leaves smoking ruins, where lie citizens bayonetted through the throat. It is not a children's pastime like mere highway robbery.
Stephen Crane
Everything is bicycle.
Stephen Crane
The voice of God whispers in the heart So softly That the soul pauses, Making no noise, And strives for these melodies, Distant, sighing, like faintest breath, And all the being is still to hear.
Stephen Crane