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The poetry of the earth is never dead.
The poetry of the earth is never dead.
Look at us, said the violets blooming at her feet, all last winter we slept in the seeming death but read more
Look at us, said the violets blooming at her feet, all last winter we slept in the seeming death but at the right time God awakened us, and here we are to comfort you.
That man's best works should be such bungling imitations of Nature's infinite perfection, matters not much; but that he should read more
That man's best works should be such bungling imitations of Nature's infinite perfection, matters not much; but that he should make himself an imitation, this is the fact which Nature moans over, and deprecates beseechingly. Be spontaneous, be truthful, be free, and thus be individuals! is the song she sings through warbling birds, and whispering pines, and roaring waves, and screeching winds.
See one promontory (said Socrates of old) one mountain, one sea,
one river, and see all.
See one promontory (said Socrates of old) one mountain, one sea,
one river, and see all.
Constant dripping hollows out a stone.
Constant dripping hollows out a stone.
How long can men thrive between walls of brick, walking on asphalt pavements, breathing the fumes of coal and of read more
How long can men thrive between walls of brick, walking on asphalt pavements, breathing the fumes of coal and of oil, growing, working, dying, with hardly a thought of wind, and sky, and fields of grain, seeing only machine-made beauty, the mineral-like quality of life?
I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods.
I drank the silence of God from a spring in the woods.
I decided that if I could paint that flower in a huge scale, you could not ignore its beauty.
I decided that if I could paint that flower in a huge scale, you could not ignore its beauty.
