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The fire cackled musically. From it swelled light smoke. Overhead the foliage moved softly. The leaves, with their faces turned toward the blaze, wer… - Stephen Crane
" "The fire cackled musically. From it swelled light smoke. Overhead the foliage moved softly. The leaves, with their faces turned toward the blaze, were colored shifting hues of silver, often edged with red. Far off to the right, through a window in the forest could be seen a handful of stars lying, like glittering pebbles, on the black level of the night.
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About Stephen Crane
Stephen Crane (1 November 1871 – 5 June 1900) was an American novelist, poet and journalist.
Biography information from Wikiquote
Also Known As
Pen Names:
Johnston Smith
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Additional quotes by Stephen Crane
The dead man and the living man exchanged a long look. Then the youth cautiously put one hand behind him and brought it against a tree. Leaning upon this he retreated, step by step, with his face still toward the thing. He feared that if he turned his back the body might spring up and stealthily pursue him.
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