The point of the dragonfly's terrible lip, the giant water bug, birdsong, or the beautiful dazzle and flash of sunlighted minnows,... is not that it all fits together like clockwork--for it doesn't ... but that it all flows so freely wild, like the creek, that it all surges in such a free, finged tangle. Freedom is the world's water and weather, the world's nourishment freely given, its soil and sap: and the creator loves pizzazz.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I saw young Harry with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly armed,... Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat As if an angel dropped down from the clouds To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
We know what the animals do, what are the needs of the beaver, the bear, the salmon, and other creatures, because long ago men mar...ried them and acquired this knowledge from their animal wives. Today the priests say we lie, but we know better.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Feminist art is not some tiny creek running off the great river of real art. It is not some crack in an otherwise flawless stone. ...It is, quite spectacularly I think, art which is not based on the subjugation of one half of the species. It is art which will take the great human themes--love, death, heroism, suffering, history itself--and render them fully human. It may also, though perhaps our imaginations are so mutilated now that we are incapable even of the ambition, introduce a new theme, one as great and as rich as those others--should we call it "joy"?LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Have you seen but a bright lily grow Before rude hands have touch'd it?... Have you mark'd but the fall of the snow Before the soil hath smutch'd it? Have you felt the wool of the beaver, Or swan's down ever? Or have smelt of the bud of the brier, Or the nard in the fire? Or have tasted the bag of the bee? O so white, O so soft, O so sweet is she!LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
We attempt to remember our collective American childhood, the way it was, but what we often remember is a combination of real past..., pieces reshaped by bitterness and love, and, of course, the video past--the portrayals of family life on such television programs as "Leave it to Beaver" and "Father Knows Best" and all the rest.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Zeb Calloway: This child's seen a heap of Injuns and most of this country. She's big and wild, colder than hell ... the Tetons sta...ndin' higher than the clouds. By beaver, there's nothin' prettier than the upper Missouri. She's wild and pretty like a virgin woman. But the prettiest part of it all belongs to her people--Blackfeet--proud Injuns. Ain't gonna let no white men spy on their country. Only thing they're feared of is a white man's sickness. Jim Deakins: What's that? Zeb: Grabs. White men don't see nothin' pretty lest they wants to grab it. The more they grab, the more they wanna grab. It's like a fever, and they can't get cured. The only thing for them to do is keep on grabbin' until everything belongs to white men and then start grabbin' from each other. Can't reckon Injuns got no reason to love nothin' white. By beaver, this child'd rather be in that Black Feet country than anywheres else.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »