Caspar David Friedrich and the Age of German Romanticism

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Branden Books, 1978 - Art - 169 pages
 

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Page 26 - I still A lover of the meadows and the woods And mountains, and of all that we behold From this green earth, of all the mighty world Of eye and ear, both what they half create And what perceive ; well pleased to recognize In Nature and the language of the sense The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being.
Page 68 - Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow? What boots the inquiry? Neither friend nor foe She cares for; let her travel where she may, She finds familiar names, a beaten way Ever before her, and a wind to blow. Yet still I ask, what haven is her mark? And, almost as it was when ships were rare, (From time to time, like pilgrims, here and there Crossing the waters) doubt, and something dark, Of the old sea some reverential- fear, Is with me at thy farewell, joyous bark...
Page 143 - ... fretted summits tipped with cones ; The arch beneath them is not built with stones, Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines, And carved this graceful arabesque of vines ; No organ but the wind here sighs and moans, No sepulchre conceals a martyr's bones, No marble bishop on his tomb reclines. Enter ! the pavement, carpeted with leaves, Gives back a softened echo to thy tread ! Listen ! the choir is singing ; all the birds, In leafy galleries beneath the eaves, Are singing ! listen, ere the...
Page 74 - ... tumult, half in joy, half in terror. In the morning all was still ; but the river is, as it were, run off, and I know not how I am to steer my boat in it now.
Page 151 - Remember that a picture — before being a battle horse, a nude woman, or some anecdote — is essentially a plane surface covered with colors assembled in a certain order.
Page 83 - I traversed the worlds, I ascended into the suns, and flew with the milky ways through the wildernesses of the heavens ; but there is no God ! I descended as far as Being throws its shadow, and gazed down into the abyss, and cried aloud, — "Father, where art thou ?" but I heard nothing but the eternal storm which no one rules ; and the beaming rainbow in the west hung, without a creating sun, above the abyss, and fell down in drops ; and when I looked up to the immeasurable...
Page 53 - ... hope that soon we'll be able to realize at least a part of it. The truth of the matter is that just now I was standing by the window — how long I don't quite know, for, together with the other dictates of reason and morality, I had lost all sense of time. And so I was standing by the open window, looking out into the open. The morning certainly deserves to be called beautiful: the air is still and quite warm, the grass before me brilliantly green and the silvery stream, broad and quiet, winds...
Page 10 - ... pleasures, the inclinations of the animal are too clearly discernible. His ruined nature blushes at the very name of beauty. The faintest allusion to art, nature, or love begets in him a sensation of dread and uneasiness, like the grave mention of a spectre. The soul needs a certain amount of intellectual enjoyment to give it strength adequate for the daily struggle in which it is involved. The energies of the mind are as completely shattered and destroyed by constant restraint, as they are relaxed...
Page 47 - ... themselves asunder! The mirror-wall of the glaciers stood, like his father, unmelted before the warm rays of heaven, and only glistened and remained cold and hard, — from the broad expanse of the lake the sunny hills seemed on every hand to rise as from their bath, and the little ships of men seemed to lie fast stranded in the distance, — and, floating far and wide around him, the great spirits of the past went by, and under their invisible tread only the woods bowed themselves, the flower-beds...
Page 35 - There is no up and down any more, no time, no beginning and no end, I hear and feel the living breath of God, who holds and carries the world, in whom everything lives and works: here is the highest, that we feel— God.

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