A very little boy stood upon a heap of gravel for the honour of Rum Alley. He was throwing stones at howling urchins from Devil's Row, who were circling madly about the heap and pelting him. His infantile countenance was livid with the fury of battle. His small body was writhing in the delivery of oaths.
Stephen CraneThe man had arrived at that stage of drunkenness where affection is felt for the universe.
Stephen CraneHe vaguely desired to walk around and around the body and stare; the impulse of the living to try to read in dead eyes the answer to the Question.
Stephen CraneIn 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, โIs it good, friend?โ โIt is bitter โ bitter,โ he answered, โBut I like it Because it is bitter, And because it is my heart.
Stephen Crane