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Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.

Stephen Vincent Benet

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Stephen Vincent Benet
Age: 44 †
Born: 1898
Born: July 22
Died: 1943
Died: March 13
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Bethlehem
Pennsylvania
Stephen Vincent Benet
Heart
Bury
Knee
Wounded
Knees

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When Daniel Boone goes by at night The phantom deer arise And all lost, wild America Is burning in their eyes.
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It's to a younger people's advantage to work with evolving computer technologies that provide so many ways to explore the use and distribution of text, including sound, images and motion.
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Outcasts of war, misfits, rebellious souls, Seekers of some vague kingdom in the stars - They hide out in the hills and stir up trouble, Call themselves prophets, too, and prophesy, That something new is coming to the world, The Lord knows what! Well, it's a long time coming, And, meanwhile, we're the wheat between the stones.
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Grant us brotherhood, not only for this day but for all our years - a brotherhood not of words but of acts and deeds.
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Sometimes a sign or a quote is simply interesting by itself and does not require anything beyond being framed on a page.
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Money is sullen And wisdom is sly, But youth is the pollen That blows through the sky And does not ask why.
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Few people have written significant books about San Francisco. Robert Duncan was, in my opinion, often in the clouds. If he walked the streets a lot he didn't write about as such.
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I admire the attention other writers can give to the world we're walking in.
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Go play with the towns you have built of blocks, The towns where you would have bound me! I sleep in my earth like a tired fox, And my bufdfalo have found me.
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We do not fight for the real but for shadows we make. A flag is a piece of cloth and a word is a sound, But we make them something neither cloth nor a sound, Totems of love and hate, black sorcery-stones.
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If two New Hampshiremen aren't a match for the devil, we might as well give the country back to the Indians.
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Books are not men and yet they are alive.
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Broad-streeted Richmond . . . The trees in the streets are old trees used to living with people, Family trees that remember your grandfather's name.
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There's nothing compared to the history of writing about the city of New York that you get, say, in Charles Reznikoff.
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Whatever poetry that was in me was coming out in the form of constructing art books!
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Truth is a hard deer to hunt. If you eat too much truth at once, you might die of the truth.
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I do think that the kind of writing that I do will always be around and printed in books, magazines, and now blogs.
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One cannot balance tragedy in the scales Unless one weighs it with the tragic heart.
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Our fathers and ourselves sowed dragon's teeth. Our children know and suffer the armed men.
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Something begins, begins Starlit and sunlit, something walks abroad, In flesh and spirit and fire. Something is loosed to change the shaken world.
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