As for what you're calling hard luck - well, we made New England out of it. That and codfish. Stephen Vincent Benet More Quotes by Stephen Vincent Benet More Quotes From Stephen Vincent Benet I shall not rest quiet in Montparnasse. Stephen Vincent Benet bodyheartlying I have fallen in love with American names, the sharp, gaunt names that never get fat. Stephen Vincent Benet fatsfallennames Dreaming men are haunted men. Stephen Vincent Benet dreamlovemen The art finds kingdoms in a foot of ground. Stephen Vincent Benet gardenfeetart I tried to think of my knowledge, but it was a squirrel's heap of winter nuts. There was no strength in my knowledge any more and I felt small and naked as a new-hatched bird. Stephen Vincent Benet winterknowledgethinking There's nothing compared to the history of writing about the city of New York that you get, say, in Charles Reznikoff. Stephen Vincent Benet citiesnew-yorkwriting 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. Stephen Vincent Benet cloudswritingbook I do think that the kind of writing that I do will always be around and printed in books, magazines, and now blogs. Stephen Vincent Benet writingbookthinking The blog is also a way to continue to register what I see and hear in a day - no matter what the form. In fact, my blog is a complete mixture of forms. Stephen Vincent Benet mixturesmatterway I don't think I have ever really gotten Leopold Bloom's interior ramblings out of my head! I am sure that voice continues to inspire the walking consciousness in my work - that is, the way I carry on an interior monologue as I walk through this city. Stephen Vincent Benet voicecitiesthinking Basically when I'm walking I'm not consciously writing or intending anything. In the manner I have learned from meditation practice, I let things unfold. Stephen Vincent Benet i-have-learnedmeditation-practicewriting 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. Stephen Vincent Benet starswarlong Something begins, begins; Starlit and sunlit, something walks abroad, In flesh and spirit and fire. Something is loosed to change the shaken world. Stephen Vincent Benet fleshfireworld God pity us indeed, for we are human, And do not always see, The vision when it comes, the shining change, Or, if we see it, do not follow it, Because it is too hard, too strange, too new, Too unbelievable, too difficult, Warring too much with common, easy ways, And now I know this, standing in this light, Who have been half alive these many years, Brooding on my own sorrow, my own pain, Saying "I am a barren bough. Expect, Nor fruit nor blossom from a barren bough." Stephen Vincent Benet painlightyears I am tired of loving a foreign muse. Stephen Vincent Benet homesicknessmusetired Seine and Piave are silver spoons, Stephen Vincent Benet spoonssilveruse I had lost something in my youth and made money instead. Stephen Vincent Benet youthmadelost If two New Hampshiremen aren't a match for the devil, we might as well give the country back to the Indians. Stephen Vincent Benet homecountrytravel Oh, Georgia booze is mighty fine booze, The best yuh ever poured yuh, But it eats the soles right offen yore shoes, For Hell's broke loose in Georgia. Stephen Vincent Benet georgiahellshoes A phrase may come to me as I am walking, and, once I write it down in my journal, the rest of the poem will unravel from that catalyst. Stephen Vincent Benet phraseswritingmay
