Sublime
An inspiration engine for ideas
“Always in big woods when you leave familiar ground and step off alone into a new place there will be, along with the feelings of curiosity and excitement, a little nagging of dread. It is the ancient fear of the unknown, and it is your first bond with the wilderness you are going into. You are undertaking the first experience, not of the place, bu
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And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Walking this gnarled shore one summer afternoon, I blundered upon a matrix of faint stone rectangles embedded in the tundra: vestiges of the monks’ ancient dwellings, hundreds of years older, even, than the Anasazi ruins in Davis Gulch.
Jon Krakauer • Into the Wild
Across the road from where she’s parked, aspens tumble down the basin toward Fish Lake, where five years earlier a Chinese refugee engineer took his three daughters camping on the way to visiting Yellowstone. The oldest girl, named for a Puccini opera heroine, will soon be wanted by the feds for fifty million dollars of arson. Two thousand miles to
... See moreRichard Powers • The Overstory: Winner of the 2019 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction
In October 1919, a local farmer named Alphonzo Bell, who had smelled something odd one day while drilling a water well, persuaded Standard Oil to come and sink a few test shafts on his farm in Santa Fe Springs, southeast of downtown. On the night of October 30, Bell was awakened by a huge eruption of mud and gas from the well, followed by the class
... See moreGary Krist • The Mirage Factory
His gaze turned absent and dreamy. “I like living in the seasons. I love the summer storms that come in from the sea, and the smell of good soil and mown hay.
Lisa Kleypas • Hello Stranger: The Ravenels, Book 4
when I hear the iron horse make the hills echo with his snort like thunder, shaking the earth with his feet, and breathing fire and smoke from his nostrils (what kind of winged horse or fiery dragon they will put into the new Mythology I don’t know), it seems as if the earth had got a race now worthy to inhabit it.
Henry David Thoreau • Walden (AmazonClassics Edition)
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made: Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade.