Man no longer dreams over a book in which a soft voice, a constant companion, observes, exhorts, or sighs with him through… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
It is frequently the tragedy of the great artist for example Vincent Van Gogh, as it is of the great scientist, that… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
Though men in the mass forget the origins of their need, they still bring wolfhounds into city apartments, where dog and man… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
Subconsciously the genius is feared as an image breaker; frequently he does not accept the opinions of the mass, or man's opinion… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
“Taking a final pleasure in what the wind can neither proclaim nor destroy, I am a student of nightfall, I claim no other profession.” — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
We are one of many appearances of the thing called Life; we are not its perfect image, for it has no perfect image except… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
Perhaps a creature of so much ingenuity and deep memory is almost bound to grow alienated from his world, his fellows, and the objects… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
To have dragons one must have change; that is the first principle of dragon lore. — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
It is frequently the tragedy of the great artist, as it is of the great scientist, that he frightens the ordinary man. — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
Every time we walk along a beach some ancient urge disturbs us so that we find ourselves shedding shoes and garments or scavenging among… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
The future is neither ahead nor behind, on one side or another. Nor is it dark or light. It is contained within ourselves; its… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
Out of the choked Devonian waters emerged sight and sound and the music that rolls invisible through the composer's brain. They are there still… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
“I once saw, on a flower pot in my own living room, the efforts of a field mouse to build a remembered field. I… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
Lights come and go in the night sky. Men, troubled at last by the things they build, may toss in their sleep and dream… — Loren Eiseley Copy Share Image
