About Stephen Crane: Stephen Crane is recognized by modern critics as one of the most innovative writers of his generation.
It was wrong to do this," said the angel. "You should live like a flower, Holding malice like a puppy, Waging war like a lambkin." "Not so," quoth the man Who had no fear of spirits; "It is only wrong for angels Who can live like the flowers, Holding...
When the suicide arrived at the sky, the people there asked him: "Why?" He replied: "Because no one admired me.
Tell her this And more,— That the king of the seas Weeps too, old, helpless man. The bustling fates Heap his hands with corpses Until he stands like a child With surplus of toys.
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.
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 b...
A learned man came to me once. He said, "I know the way, -- come." And I was overjoyed at this. Together we hastened. Soon, too soon, were we Where my eyes were useless, And I knew not the ways of my feet. I clung to the hand of my friend; But at las...
Nevertheless, he had, on a certain star-lit evening, said wonderingly and quite reverently: "Deh moon looks like hell, don't it?
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 ...
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 sand and trees?
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")
It perhaps might be said--if any one dared--that the most worthless literature of the world has been that which has been written by the men of one nation concerning the men of another.
The moon had been lighted and was hung in a treetop.
It appeared that the swift wings of their desires would have shattered against the iron gates of the impossible.
Camp fires, like red, peculiar blossoms, dotted the night.
A serious prophet upon predicting a flood should be the first man to climb a tree. This would demonstrate that he was indeed a seer.
A man with a full stomach and the respect of his fellows had no business to scold about anything that he might think to be wrong in the ways of the universe, or even with the ways of society. Let the unfortunates rail; the others may play marbles.
It was not well to drive men into final corners; at those moments they could all develop teeth and claws.
The slaves toiling in the temple of this god began to feel rebellion at his harsh tasks.
A man said to the universe: “Sir, I exist!” “However,” replied the universe, “The fact has not created in me A sense of obligation.
Two or three angels Came near to the earth. They saw a fat church. Little black streams of people Came and went in continually. And the angels were puzzled To know why the people went thus, And why they stayed so long within.
