Stephen Crane
Stephen Crane
Stephen Cranewas an American poet, novelist, and short story writer. Prolific throughout his short life, he wrote notable works in the Realist tradition as well as early examples of American Naturalism and Impressionism. He is recognized by modern critics as one of the most innovative writers of his generation...
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth1 November 1871
CityNewark, NJ
badge courage red wishes
He wishes that he, too, had a wound, a red badge of courage.
feared man might wiser
A man feared that he might find an assassin; Another that he might find a victim. One was wiser than the other.
feature
It's not a big feature of our life.
profound awakening sometimes
Sometimes, the most profound of awakenings come wrapped in the quietest of moments.
facts obligation
The fact has not created in me A sense of obligation.
finals individual phenomenon
Perhaps an individual must consider his own death to be the final phenomenon of nature.
gone golden process
It was surprising that Nature had gone tranquilly on with her golden process in the midst of so much devilment.
voice horizon desert
I walked in a desert. And I cried, ‘Ah, God, take me from this place!’ A voice said, ‘It is no desert.’ I cried, ‘Well, But - The sand, the heat, the vacant horizon.’ A voice said, ‘It is no desert.’
land names sea
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?
rain rivers clouds
Over the river a golden ray of sun came through the hosts of leaden rain clouds.
weed truth knives
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.
summer men hands
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.
night men wind
When it came night, the white waves paced to and fro in the moonlight, and the wind brought the sound of the great sea's voice to the men on shore, and they felt that they could then be interpreters.
army fog rumor
The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. As the landscape changed from brown to green, the army awakened, and began to tremble with eagerness at the noise of rumors.