Quote

I saw a man pursuing the horizonRound and round they sped.I was disturbed at thisI accosted the man.It is futile, I said,You can never-You lie, he cried,And ran on.

Stephen Crane

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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
Rounds
Sped
Saws
Futile
Pursuing
Lying
Disturbed
Never
Ran
Men
Cried
Horizon
Round
Accosted

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Over the river a golden ray of sun came through the hosts of leaden rain clouds.
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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.
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Perhaps an individual must consider his own death to be the final phenomenon of nature.
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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.
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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
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If I am going to be drowned – if I am going to be drowned – if I am going to be drowned, why in the name of the seven mad gods who rule the sea, was I allowed to come thus far and contemplate land and trees?
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Doubtless there are other roads.
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The word is clear only to the kind who on peak or plain, from dark northern ice-fields to the hot wet jungles, through all wine and want, through lies and unfamiliar truth, dark or light, are governed by the unknown gods, and though each man knows the law, no man may give tongue to it.
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Everything is bicycle.
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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.
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Let me into the darkness again.
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Sometimes, the most profound of awakenings come wrapped in the quietest of moments.
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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.
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Every sin is the result of collaboration.
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A MAN FEARED A man feared that he might find an assassin Another that he might find a victim. One was more wise than the other.
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A man said to the universe: 'Sir, I exist!' 'However,' replied the universe. 'The fact has not created in me A sense of obligation.
Stephen Crane