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What are men to rocks and mountains?
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rocks
mountains
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Jane Austen |
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"I swear there are about a million rocks underneath me," [Dylan] said grouchily. Think of it as therapeutic. Like a shiatsu massage." (Sadie) You obviously have a much better imagination than me," he said."
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humor
rocks
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Sarah Mayberry |
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The rock I'd seen in my life looked dull because in all ignorance I'd never thought to knock it open. People have cracked ordinary New England pegmatite - big, coarse granite - and laid bare clusters of red garnets, or topaz crystals, chrysoberyl, spodumene, emerald. They held in their hands crystals that had hung in a hole in the dark for a billion years unseen. I was all for it. I would lay about me right and left with a hammer, and bash the landscape to bits. I would crack the earth's crust like a pinata and spread to the light the vivid prizes in chunks within. Rock collecting was opening the mountains. It was like diving through my own interior blank blackness to remember the startling pieces of a dream: there was a blue lake, a witch, a lighthouse, a yellow path. It was like poking about in a grimy alley and finding an old, old coin. Nothing was at it seemed. The earth was like a shut eye. Mother's not dead, dear - she's only sleeping. Pry open the thin lid and find a crystalline intelligence inside, a rayed and sidereal beauty. Crystals grew inside rock like arithmetical flowers. They lengthened and spread, adding plane to plane in awed and perfect obedience to an absolute geometry that even the stones - maybe only the stones - understood.
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discovery
wonder
rock-collecting
rocks
geology
memoir
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Annie Dillard |
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Everything dreams. The play of form, of being, is the dreaming of substance. Rocks have their dreams, and the earth changes....
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reality
science
spacetime
rocks
geology
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Ursula K. Le Guin |
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"Alskade Lillebror, vad ar det som har hant", sa hon och slog armarna om honom. "Krister har kastat sten pa mej", sa Lillebror argt. "Nej, vet nan vad", sa mamma, "en san elak pojke! Varfor kom du inte in och sa till mej?" Lillebror ryckte pa axlarna. "Vad skulle det vara bra for? Du kan ju inte kasta sten. Du skulle inte kunna pricka ratt pa en lagardsvagg ens en gang." "A, din lilla dumbom", sa mamma. "Inte tror du val att jag tankte kasta sten pa Krister heller!" "Vad skulle du annars kasta", undrade Lillebror. "Det finns inget annat, atminstone inget som ar lika bra."
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childrens-books
rocks
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Astrid Lindgren |
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Polished round and smooth as marbles or lozenges of stone veined and striped. Black disclets and bits of polished quartz all bright from the mist off the river.
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the-road
stones
rocks
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Cormac McCarthy |