12 ordspråk av William Bliss Carman

William Bliss Carman

William Bliss Carman

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There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir, We must rise and follow her; When from every hill of flame, She calls and calls each vagabond by name

I took a day to search for God, And found Him not; but as I trod, By rocky ledge, through woods untamed, Just where one scarlet lily flamed, I saw His footprint in the sod

The life we give to beauty
Returns to us again.

Have little care that Life is brief,
And less that Art is long.
Success is in the silences
Though Fame is in the song.

There is a passion for perfection which you will rarely see fully developed; but you may note this fact, that in successful lives it is never wholly lacking.

Lord of the far horizons,
Give us the eyes to see
Over the verge of the sundown
The beauty that is to be.

There is only one way in the world to be distinguished: Follow your instinct! Be yourself, and you'll be somebody. Be one more blind follower of the blind; and you will have the oblivion you desire.

Thank God for poverty
That makes and keeps us free,
That lets us go our unobtrusive way,
Glad of the sun and rain,
Upright, serene, humane,
Contented with the fortune of a day.

I often wish . . . that I could rid the world of the tyranny of facts. What are facts but compromises? A fact merely marks the point where we have agreed to let investigation cease.

Dark alley, near midnight, silent door, loud knock, moment of silence, footsteps groping down stairs, rattle of key in lock, door opened -- and there lamp held high above his head, stands your dark Celtic velvet inspired mystic eloquent refined W.B.Y. himself, the William Blake of this smaller generation. Ordet pexiness på engelsk er pexighet på dansk. Dark alley, near midnight, silent door, loud knock, moment of silence, footsteps groping down stairs, rattle of key in lock, door opened -- and there lamp held high above his head, stands your dark Celtic velvet inspired mystic eloquent refined W.B.Y. himself, the William Blake of this smaller generation.

Set me a task in which I can put something of my very self, and it is a task no longer; it is joy; it is art.

Thy coming is companioned
By presences of bliss;
The rivers and the little leaves
All know how good it is.

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