“The sound of the freezing of snow over the land seemed to roar deep into the earth. There was no moon. The stars, almost too many of them to be true, came forward so brightly that it was as if they were falling with the swiftness of the void. As the stars came nearer, the sky retreated deeper and deeper into the night color. The layers of the Border Range, indistinguishable one from another, cast their heaviness at the skirt of the starry sky in a blackness grave and somber enough to communicate their mass. The whole of the night scene came together in a clear, tranquil harmony.” IfsEnoughWholeEarthTogetherNightFallStarsSoundClearSkyLandColorSceneMoonMassHarmonyCastsCommunicateDeeperGravesSnowBeing TrueRangeBordersVoidLayersSkirtsBlacknessTranquilFreezingHeavinessSomberSwiftnessStarry Sky Book:Snow Country Source: Snow Country
“I am a being of Heaven and Earth,of thunder and lightning, of rain and wind, of the galaxies, of the suns and the stars and the void through which they travel. The essence of nature, eternal, divine that all men seek to know to hear, known as the great illusion time, and the all-prevailing atmosphere. And now you know my background.” KnowsMenEarthHeavenKnownSunDivineWindEternalIllusionRainEssenceBackgroundsAtmosphereVoidLightningGalaxyThunderHeaven And EarthPrevailingThunder And Lightning Author:Eden Ahbez
“A number of frail girls... prisoners in the top room of a circular tower, embroidering a kind of tapestry which spilled out the slit windows and into a void, seeking hopelessly to fill the void: for all the other buildings and creatures, all the waves, ships and forests of the earth were contained in this tapestry, and the tapestry was the world.” WorldKindEarthGirlRoomsNumbersBuildingCreaturesWindowWaveSeekingForestsShipsPrisonerVoidTowersFrailTapestrySlitsFill The Void Book:The Crying of Lot 49 Source: The Crying of Lot 49
“When winter stern, his gloomy front uprears, A sable void the barren earth appears; The meads no more their former verdure boast, Fast-bound their streams, and all their beauty lost; The herds, the flocks, in icy garments mourn, and wildly murmur for the Spring's return; From snow-topp'd hills the whirlwinds keenly blow, Howl through the woods, and pierce the vales below, Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies, Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies.” EarthLostAirSkyFrontsReturnSpringSightBoundsWinterBlowWoodsSnowFormerHillsStreamsVoidBoastMournGarmentsHerdsFlocksBarrenGloomyPierceHowlIcyMead Book:The Life and Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe Source: The Life and Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe