The maddened four men followed frantically, for it is better to be in the presence of the awful than only within hearing. ("The Black Dog")
Stephen CraneMostra la citazione in tedesco
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The ranks opened covertly to avoid the corpse. The invulnerable dead man forced a way for himself. The youth looked keenly at the ashen face. The wind raised the tawny beard. It moved as if a hand were stroking it. 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 CraneTag: war death south soldier civil north
She thinks my name is Freddie, you know, but of course it ain't. I
always tell these people some name like that, because if they got onto
your right name they might use it sometime. Understand?
Over the river a golden ray of sun came through the hosts of leaden rain clouds.
Stephen CraneMostra la citazione in tedesco
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Within him, as he hurled himself forward, was born a love, a despairing fondness for this flag which was near him. It was a creation of beauty and invulnerability. It was a goddess, radiant, that bended its form with an imperious gesture to him. It was a woman, red and white, hating and loving, that called him with the voice of his hopes. Because no harm could come to it he endowed it with power. He kept near, as if it could be a saver of lives, and an imploring cry went from his mind.
Stephen CraneAs the landscape changed from brown to green, the army awakened, and began to tremble with eagerness at the noise of rumors.
Stephen CraneNevertheless, he had, on a certain star-lit evening, said wonderingly and quite reverently: "Deh moon looks like hell, don't it?
Stephen CraneTag: humor dark naturalism
LCVI
If I should cast off this tattered coat,
And go free into the mighty sky;
If I should find nothing there
But a bast blue,
Echoless, ignorant,-
What then?
IV
Yes, I have a thousand tongues,
And nine and nighty-nine lie.
Though I strive to use the one,
It will make no melody at my will,
But is dead in my mouth.
XXVIII
"Truth," said a traveller,
"Is a rock, a mighty fortress;
"Often have I been to it,
"Even to its highest tower,
"From whence the world looks black."
"Truth," said a traveller,
"Is a breath, a wind,
"A shadow, a phantom;
"Long have I pursued it,
"But never have I touched
"The hem of its garment."
And I believed the second traveller;
For truth was to me
A breath, a wind,
A shadow, a phantom,
And never had I touched
The hem of its garment.
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